CHAPTER XIII
[THE ARRIVAL OF CHRISTIAN ALMER]
"And you have really told it very well, Mother Denise," said the Advocate's wife; "with such sentiment, and in such beautiful language! It is a great talent: I don't know when I have been so interested. Why, in some parts you actually gave me the creeps! And here is Dionetta, as white as a lily. What a comfort it must have been to the poor lady to have had a good soul like you about her! If such a misfortune happened to me, I should like to have just such a servant as you were to her."
"Heaven forbid, my lady," said Mother Denise, raising her hands, "that such an unhappy lot should be yours!"
"Well, to tell you the truth," said Adelaide, with a bright smile, "I do not think it at all likely to happen. Of course, there is no telling what one might have to go through. Men are such strange creatures, and lead such strange lives! They may do anything--absolutely anything!--fight, gamble, make love without the least sincerity, deceive poor women and forsake them--yes, they may do all that, and the world will smile indulgently upon them. But if one of us, Mother Denise, makes the slightest trip, dear me! what a fuss is made about it--how shocked everybody is! A perfect carnival for the scandal-mongers! 'Isn't it altogether too dreadful.' 'Did you ever hear of such a thing?' 'Would you have believed it of her?' That is what is said by all sorts of people. But if I happened to be treated badly I should not submit to it tamely--nor between you and me, Mother Denise, in my opinion, did the lady whose story you have just related."
"Everything occurred," said Mother Denise stiffly, "exactly as I have described it."
"With a small allowance," said Adelaide archly, "for exaggeration, and with here and there a chapter left out. Come, you must admit that!"
"I have omitted nothing, my lady. I am angry with myself for having told so much. I doubt whether I have not done wrong."
"Mr. Christian Almer, whom I expect every minute"--and Adelaide looked at her watch--"would have been seriously annoyed with you if you had not satisfied my curiosity. Where is the harm? To be living here, with such an interesting tale untold, would have been inexcusable, perfectly inexcusable. But I am certain that you have purposely passed over more than one chapter, and I admire you for it. It is highly to your credit not to have told all you know, though it could hurt no one at this distance of time."
"What do you think I have concealed, my lady?"
"There was a certain M. Gabriel," said Adelaide, "who played a most important part in the story--a good many people would say, the most important part. If it had not been for him, there would have been no story to tell worth the hearing; there would have been no quarrel between husband and wife, and the foolish young lady would not have died, and I should not be here, listening to her story, and ready to cry my eyes out in pity for her. M. Gabriel must have been a very handsome young fellow, or there would not have been such a fuss made about him. There! I declare you have never even given me a description of him. Of course he was handsome."
She was full of vivacity, and as she leaned forward towards the old housekeeper, it appeared as if, in her estimation, nothing connected with the story she had heard was of so much importance as this question, which she repeated anxiously, "Tell me, Mother Denise, was he handsome?"
"He was exceedingly good-looking," Mother Denise was constrained to reply, "but not so distinguished in his bearing as my unhappy master."
"Tall?"
"Yes, tall, my lady."
"Dark or fair? But I think you gave me the impression that he was dark."
"Yes, my lady, he was dark," replied Mother Denise, coldly, more and more displeased at the frivolity of the questions.
"And young, of course--much younger than Mr. Almer?"
"Much younger, my lady."
"There would be no sense in the matter otherwise; anyone might guess that he was young and handsome and fascinating. Well, as I was about to say--I hope you will forgive me for flying off as I do; my head gets so full of ideas that they tumble over one another--all at once this M. Gabriel drops clean out of the story, and we hear nothing more of him. If there is one thing more inexplicable than another in the affair, it is that nothing more should be heard of M. Gabriel."
"We live out of the gay world, my lady; far removed from it, I am happy to think. It is not at all strange that in this quiet village we should not know what became of him."
"That is assuming that M. Gabriel went back into the gay world, as you call it, which is not such a bad place, I assure you, Mother Denise."
"He could not have stopped in the village, my lady, without its being known."
"Probably not; but, you dear old soul!" said Adelaide, her manner becoming more animated as that of Mother Denise became more frigid, "you dear old soul, they always come back! When lovers are dismissed, as M. Gabriel was, they always come back. They think they never will--they vow they never will--but they cannot help themselves. They are not their own masters. It is the story of the moth and the candle over again."
"You mean, my lady," said Mother Denise, very gravely, "that M. Gabriel returned to the villa."
"That is my meaning exactly. What else could he do?"
"I will not say whether I am glad or sorry to disappoint you, my lady, but M. Gabriel, after the summer-house was barred up, never made his appearance again in the village."
"Of course, under the circumstances, he could not show himself to everybody. It was necessary that he should be cautious. He had to come quietly--secretly, if you like."
"He never came, my lady," said Mother Denise, with determination.
"But he wrote, and sent his letters by a confidential messenger; he did that at least."
"I told you, my lady, that while my poor mistress lived in these rooms she never received or wrote a letter."
"If that is so, his letters to her must have been intercepted."
"There were no letters," said Mother Denise, stubbornly.
"There were," said Adelaide, smiling a reproof to Mother Denise. "I know the ways of men better than you do."
"By whom, my lady, do you suppose these imaginary letters were intercepted?"
"By her husband, of course, you dear, simple soul!"
"Mr. Almer could not have been guilty of such an act."
The Advocate's wife gazed admiringly at the housekeeper. "Dionetta," she exclaimed, "never be tempted to betray your mistress's secrets; take pattern by your grandmother."
"She might do worse, my lady," said Mother Denise, still unbending.
"Indeed she might. I am thinking of something. On the night you were aroused from your sleep, and heard the sound of a man falling to the ground----"
"I only fancied it was a man, my lady; we never learnt the truth."
"It was a man, and he climbed the wall. And he chose a dark and stormy night for his adventure. He was a brave fellow. I quite admire him."
"Admire a thief!" exclaimed Mother Denise, in horror.
"My dear old soul, you must know it was not a thief. The house was not robbed, was it?"
"No, my lady, nothing was taken; but what is the use of speaking of it?"
"When once I get an idea into my head," said Adelaide, "it carries me along, whether I like it or not. So, then--some time after you heard a man falling or jumping from the wall, you heard the sound of someone walking in the paths outside. He was fearful of disturbing anyone in the house, and he trod very, very softly. I should have done just the same. Now can't you guess the name of that man?"
"No, my lady, it was never discovered. He was a villain, whoever he was, to poison our dogs."
"That was a small matter. What is the life of a dog--of a thousand dogs--when a man is in love?"
"My lady!" cried Mother Denise. "What is it you are saying?"
"Nothing will deter him," continued Adelaide, with an intense enjoyment of the old woman's uneasiness, "nothing will frighten him, if he is brave and earnest, as M. Gabriel was. You dear old soul, the man you heard in the grounds that night was M. Gabriel, and he came to see your mistress--perhaps to carry her off! This window is not very high; I could almost jump from it myself."
Mother Denise pressed her hand to her side, as though to relieve a sudden pain; her face was white with a newly born apprehension.
"Do you really believe, my lady," she asked in trembling tones, "that M. Gabriel would have dared to enter the grounds in the dead of night, like a thief, after what had occurred?"
"I certainly believe it; it was the daring of a lover, not of a thief. Were any traces of blood discovered in the grounds?"
"None were discovered; but if blood was spilt, the rain would have washed it away."
"Or it could have been wiped away in the dark night!"
"Is it possible," said Mother Denise under her breath, "that you can be right, and that my master and M. Gabriel met on that night!"
"The most probable occurrence in the world," said Adelaide, with a pleasant smile. "What should have made your old master so anxious that you should not speak of the sounds you heard? He had a motive, depend upon it."
Mother Denise, who had sunk into a chair in great agitation, suddenly rose, and said abruptly:
"My lady, this is very painful to me. Will you allow me to go?"
"Certainly; do not let me detain you a moment. I cannot express to you the obligations you have laid me under by relating the history of this house and family. There is nothing more to do in these rooms, I believe. How very, very pretty they look! We must do everything in our power to make the place pleasant to the young master who is coming. But I think I can promise he will be happy here."
Not even Adelaide's smiles and good-humour could smooth Mother Denise's temper for the rest of the day.
"Mark my words, Martin," she said to her husband, "something wrong will happen before the Advocate and his fine lady leave the villa. She has put such horrible ideas into my head! Ah, but I will not think of them; it is treason, rank treason! We shall rue the day she came among us."
"Ha, ha!" chuckled the old man slyly. "You're jealous, Denise, you're jealous! She is the pleasantest lady, and the sweetest spoken, and the most generous, and the handsomest, for twenty miles round. The whole village is in love with her."
"And you as well as the rest, I suppose," snapped Mother Denise.
"I don't say that--I don't say that," piped Martin, with a childish laugh. "Never kiss and tell, Denise, never kiss and tell! If I was young and straight----"
"But you're old and crooked," retorted Mother Denise, "and your mind's going, if it hasn't gone already. You grow sillier and sillier every day."
A reproach the old man received with gleeful laughs and tiresome coughs. His worship of the beautiful lady was not to be lightly disturbed.
"The sweetest and the handsomest!" he chuckled, as he hobbled away, at the rate of half a mile an hour. "I'd walk twenty mile to serve her--twenty mile--twenty mile!"
"And this is actually the room," said Adelaide, walking about it, "in which that poor lady spent so many unhappy years! Her prison! Her grave! Dionetta, my pretty one, when the chance of happiness is offered to you, do not throw it away. Life is short. Enjoy it. A great many people moralise and preach, but if you were to see what they do, and put it in by the side of what they say, you would understand what fools those people must be who believe in their moralising and preaching. The persecuted lady whose story your grandmother has told us--what happiness did she enjoy in her life? None. Do you know why, Dionetta? Because it was life without love. Love is life's sunshine. Better to be dead than to live without it! Hark! Is not that a carriage driving up at the gates?"
She ran swiftly from the room, down the stairs, into the grounds. The gates were thrown open. A young man, just alighted, came towards her. She ran forward to meet him, with outstretched hands, with face beaming with joy. He took her hands in his.
"Welcome, Mr. Almer," she said aloud, so that those around her could hear her. "You have had a pleasant journey, I hope." And then, in a whisper, "Christian!"
"Adelaide!" he said, in a tone as low as hers.
"Now I am the happiest woman!" she murmured. "It is an eternity since I saw you. How could you have kept away from me so long?"