Volume I Part 8 (1/2)
”You will not be absent long?” inquired the marquise, in a reproachful tone.
”A couple of weeks at most. The fact is, that I am going to Spa, and hope to bring back with me the a.s.sistant, without whom I can advance no further.”
”You said you did not object,” murmured Pharamond, softly.
”Object? Certainly not. I said so long ago.”
Clovis frowned. He did not like to be reminded of dependence just as he was about to use his liberty.
”I have a hundred questions to ask, which must be answered by word of mouth, and shall bring back such a budget of testimony as shall surprise even you into belief. The country is distressingly quiet and monotonous. You are not afraid, I suppose, to await my return under the joint protection of my brothers?”
The abbe was innocently contemplating the tapestry opposite with rapt interest; the chevalier was examining the floor. If the husband had only known--how whimsical a question! Gabrielle glanced at one, then at the other, with a tiny twinge of misgiving, which speedily gave way to confidence, and replied simply--
”Oh, no; I am afraid of neither. Even if they attempted to do me harm, and why should they? have I not Toinon at hand, and her no less devoted lover?”
”Harm! From us!” echoed Pharamond, vastly tickled. ”Phebus is an ogre with great teeth and one blear eye, whilst I am the original Croquemitaine, devourer of white-fleshed maidens.”
”I have said I am not afraid of you,” remarked the marquise, demurely.
”Jean Boulot, the devoted lover!” continued the playful abbe. ”More danger in his little finger, I warrant, than in both our bodies. While you are absent, Clovis, I've half a mind to divert myself with pretty Toinon; but, alas! I am in terror of her big surly bear. A brawny malcontent! Only the other day I heard him deliver an address under the village tree--such a compound of fire and brimstone--and I suppose my smile was not respectful; for, catching my eye, he directed his abuse at me, and poured forth such a scurrilous diatribe against our cla.s.s that I was glad enough to escape. Like everyone else, however, he respects Gabrielle, and when he becomes aggressive, she shall s.h.i.+eld us from his wrath!”
The marquise was relieved, for this was a delicate way of hinting that there was to be no recurrence of that scene. Why should she mind being left with the brothers? Clovis, who did not s.h.i.+ne as a protector, might depart on his mission with a light heart, to return as soon as possible wreathed with the laurels of success.
He went, and the household, after the small excitement of the unimportant incident, returned to its monotony of peace. The brothers treated their chatelaine with such an increase of punctilio and ceremony as should perforce stop the idle gossip of provincial busybodies. Even shrewd Toinon, who was of an unbelieving turn, and never quite satisfied with regard to the honeyed churchman, looked on the situation with approval.
The marquis had been absent three weeks when a messenger arrived with a missive directed to the abbe. Gabrielle was in the moat garden superintending the chevalier, who was occupied in the watering of plants. Toinon was there, too, looking after Jean Boulot, as was her duty, while he clipped and trimmed the hedges, with the prodigies hanging to his coat-tails. The group made a charming picture of rural bliss, such as it makes good the heart to look upon. Through the postern-door leisurely emerged the abbe, gazing at a paper as he descended the gra.s.sy slope with a scowl of genuine annoyance.
”What is it?” cried Gabrielle, turning pale. ”Nothing wrong with Clovis?”
”Everything wrong with Clovis,” retorted Pharamond, testily. ”He must have lost his wits to be capable of such a proceeding.”
”He is well?”
”Oh, yes; he is well.”
”Then all is well.”
”Is it? That remains to be shown. He will be home to-morrow at supper time.”
”Then all is well, indeed. The best of news!”
Delighted as she was, a pang shot through the heart of the marquise, in that the absent one had elected to communicate with his brother rather than his wife.
”Do you know?” she remarked with a smile, ”that I am quite jealous. He ought to have written to me.”
”I suppose he had the decency to be ashamed, and so left it to me to smooth the way for him. There is something here which I doubt your liking. It was wrong--very, very wrong--not to have first consulted _you_.”
”What is it? Let me know, without all this parley. You torture me!”
”Well, the prodigal returns to-morrow--but not alone.”
”I know that. He had full permission to hire an a.s.sistant. Are there more? He is welcome to bring his friends.”