Part 29 (1/2)
Chesnel rose to the occasion and played up to the d.u.c.h.ess; he wrapped himself in his dressing-gown, fell at her feet, and kissed them, not without asking her pardon for forgetting himself in his joy.
”We are saved!” cried he; and gave orders to Brigitte to see that Mme.
la d.u.c.h.esse had all that she needed after traveling post all night. He appealed to the fair Diane's spirit, by making her see that it was absolutely necessary that she should visit the examining magistrate before daylight, lest any one should discover the secret, or so much as imagine that the d.u.c.h.esse de Maufrigneuse had come.
”And have I not a pa.s.sport in due form?” quoth she, displaying a sheet of paper, wherein she was described as M. le Vicomte Felix de Vandeness, Master of Requests, and His Majesty's private secretary.
”And do I not play my man's part well?” she added, running her fingers through her wig a la t.i.tus, and twirling her riding switch.
”O! Mme. la d.u.c.h.esse, you are an angel!” cried Chesnel, with tears in his eyes. (She was destined always to be an angel, even in man's attire.) ”b.u.t.ton up your greatcoat, m.u.f.fle yourself up to the eyes in your traveling cloak, take my arm, and let us go as quickly as possible to Camusot's house before anybody can meet us.”
”Then am I going to see a man called Camusot?” she asked.
”With a nose to match his name,”[*] a.s.sented Chesnel.
[*] Camus, flat-nosed
The old notary felt his heart dead within him, but he thought it none the less necessary to humor the d.u.c.h.ess, to laugh when she laughed, and shed tears when she wept; groaning in spirit, all the same, over the feminine frivolity which could find matter for a jest while setting about a matter so serious. What would he not have done to save the Count? While Chesnel dressed; Mme. de Maufrigneuse sipped the cup of coffee and cream which Brigitte brought her, and agreed with herself that provincial women cooks are superior to Parisian chefs, who despise the little details which make all the difference to an epicure. Thanks to Chesnel's taste for delicate fare, Brigitte was found prepared to set an excellent meal before the d.u.c.h.ess.
Chesnel and his charming companion set out for M. and Mme. Camusot's house.
”Ah! so there is a Mme. Camusot?” said the d.u.c.h.ess. ”Then the affair may be managed.”
”And so much the more readily, because the lady is visibly tired enough of living among us provincials; she comes from Paris,” said Chesnel.
”Then we must have no secrets from her?”
”You will judge how much to tell or to conceal,” Chesnel replied humbly. ”I am sure that she will be greatly flattered to be the d.u.c.h.esse de Maufrigneuse's hostess; you will be obliged to stay in her house until nightfall, I expect, unless you find it inconvenient to remain.”
”Is this Mme. Camusot a good-looking woman?” asked the d.u.c.h.ess, with a c.o.xcomb's air.
”She is a bit of a queen in her own house.”
”Then she is sure to meddle in court-house affairs,” returned the d.u.c.h.ess. ”Nowhere but in France, my dear M. Chesnel, do you see women so much wedded to their husbands that they are wedded to their husband's professions, work, or business as well. In Italy, England, and Germany, women make it a point of honor to leave men to fight their own battles; they shut their eyes to their husbands' work as perseveringly as our French citizens' wives do all that in them lies to understand the position of their joint-stock partners.h.i.+p; is not that what you call it in your legal language? Frenchwomen are so incredibly jealous in the conduct of their married life, that they insist on knowing everything; and that is how, in the least difficulty, you feel the wife's hand in the business; the Frenchwoman advises, guides, and warns her husband. And, truth to tell, the man is none the worse off. In England, if a married man is put in prison for debt for twenty-four hours, his wife will be jealous and make a scene when he comes back.”
”Here we are, without meeting a soul on the way,” said Chesnel. ”You are the more sure of complete ascendency here, Mme. la d.u.c.h.esse, since Mme. Camusot's father is one Thirion, usher of the royal cabinet.”
”And the King never thought of that!” exclaimed the d.u.c.h.ess. ”He thinks of nothing! Thirion introduced us, the Prince de Cadignan, M.
de Vandeness, and me! We shall have it all our own way in this house.
Settle everything with M. Camusot while I talk to his wife.”
The maid, who was was.h.i.+ng and dressing the children, showed the visitors into the little fireless dining-room.
”Take that card to your mistress,” said the d.u.c.h.ess, lowering her voice for the woman's ear; ”n.o.body else is to see it. If you are discreet, child, you shall not lose by it.”
At the sound of a woman's voice, and the sight of the handsome young man's face, the maid looked thunderstruck.
”Wake M. Camusot,” said Chesnel, ”and tell him, that I am waiting to see him on important business,” and she departed upstairs forthwith.
A few minutes later Mme. Camusot, in her dressing-gown, sprang downstairs and brought the handsome stranger into her room. She had pushed Camusot out of bed and into his study with all his clothes, bidding him dress himself at once and wait there. The transformation scene had been brought about by a bit of pasteboard with the words MADAME LA d.u.c.h.eSSE DE MAUFRIGNEUSE engraved upon it. A daughter of the usher of the royal cabinet took in the whole situation at once.