Rose D'Albret; or, Troublous Times.

by G. P. R. James

CHAPTER XXXVIII.

It is very rarely, indeed, I believe, that human beings become, even by long habit, so hardened in evil as to commit crimes deliberately, without some shrinking reluctance, without some moments of hesitation and dismay. The voice of conscience may be reduced to a whisper; but still, if an interval of silence occurs in the tumult of the passions, that whisper is heard. If unattended to for reformation of purpose, it does, indeed, but serve to irritate the guilty mind to more culpable excess; for conscience, by those who are resolute in wickedness, is soon ranked amongst their enemies, as one of those to be overcome by the more vehement opposition; and in its defiance they go beyond even the point they at first desired, as a fierce and hard-mouthed horse leaps much farther than is necessary to clear an opposing fence.

As Madame de Chazeul walked to her room with her brother, a momentary glimpse, a vision as in a dream, a picture like the scene of a play, presented itself to her all at once, of the complicated intrigue in which she had involved herself, the difficulties which awaited her whichever way she turned, the consequences of the deceits she had practised, their ultimate exposure, and the contempt and suspicion which might follow her after-life, from the discovery of all the falsehoods she had told, and all the arts she had had recourse to.

For a single instant the question shot across her mind, like a flash of lightning, "If men will so judge me, how will judge me, God?" But that gleam of awful light she crushed out, in an instant, like a dying spark in a mass of tinder; and to all the rest she had a ready, and to her convincing, answer, "I shall have triumphed! That is enough! Success is justification!"

Hers was the philosophy of a great modern usurper, applied to domestic life; and the springs which moved her in many of her proceedings, were not very different from his own.

The next consideration was the government of her brother; and step by step, through the hall and up the stairs, the incredible rapidity of thought brought her to new conclusions; not a footfall but had its thousand questions and replies in her own breast, its examination of plans and results, its calculations of character, its meditation of weakness, and its application of the means to the end. Half a lifetime was spent between the court and her own apartments--I mean thoughts that would have filled half a lifetime better disposed; but when she reached her own door, her mind was calm and clear; and she entered with the full assurance of overruling all opposition, extinguishing all suspicion, working out her own schemes, in despite of every combination of circumstances against her, ay! and of taking revenge, and closing the tomb over one of the chief sources of doubt and anxiety for the future.

The large ante-room in which her maids slept was vacant, for they were engaged with their mistress's dress in the chamber beyond; and with a smiling countenance, as if all memory of the ceremony just past, had left her on the staircase, she invited her brother with somewhat formal courtesy to be seated, closed the door, and then began, without waiting to be questioned.

"Well, Anthony," she said; "I thought I knew every turn and wile of a woman's heart.--I have a good right to know; for I do not think there are many women who have dealt more in matters of policy, public and private, than I have done;" she added these words in a tone of gay candor, which she knew would not be without its effect. "But yet I have found one to go beyond me: and, for a time, to overpower me--till I discovered the truth. When I went from you to Rose d'Albret, I found her in a high and haughty mood, ready to treat remonstrance with contempt, and evidently wishing to be pressed, if not forced, so that she might cast any blame in point of haste on us, and justify herself. Her conduct and her tone provoked me,--foolishly I will allow, and I did,--sillily enough--what I ought not to have done. I told her of the discovery we have made, of Chazeul's visit to her chamber--which I should have studiously avoided; but I was off my guard--"

"I do not see that," said Monsieur de Liancourt: "why should you have avoided it? I should tell her the first thing, as the motive which made me urge the marriage upon her."

"Ay! that is very well for you, brother," replied Madame de Chazeul, "but you stood in a different position. You have a right, not only to speak such truths, but to command the only conduct which can take away the sting from them. I should have remembered that, for me to show I knew the fact, would but irritate her to resistance and denial, and to efforts for her exculpation, even to resistance, of the only remedy for the evil situation in which she has placed herself; just as mad people deny they are insane, and refuse the medicines which might soothe their brains. In an instant, she had a story ready. She had not slept in that room, she said; and gave me to understand that she had passed the night in the adjoining chamber. Seeing the error I had committed, I replied, that it might be so, but that the injury to her reputation was the same, and that the only remedy for that was her immediate marriage with my son."

"In which chamber did she say she slept?" demanded the Count.

But Madame de Chazeul did not wish to be brought to the point, and replied, "I do not well know; there is one on the right, and one on the left, you know. However, I told her that you took the same view that I did; and that you had sworn, in the most solemn manner, she should be Chazeul's wife before noon to-day."

"Did I swear?" asked Monsieur de Liancourt, in a low voice.

"As solemnly as ever man swore," replied the Marchioness; "you called heaven to witness; you vowed a vow to God; and that seemed to move her more than anything; indeed, it appeared that she was just going to say, when she found you were so resolute, that she was prepared to obey, when the door opened, and in walked,--who think you?"

"Nay, I cannot divine," said Monsieur de Liancourt; "not De Montigni?"

"No! no!" answered Madame de Chazeul; "it would take longer for a ghost to travel post from Chartres; and he is dead beyond all doubt No,--who but Helen de la Tremblade."

"Ah! poor little Helen! I shall be, glad to see her," cried the Count; "she has not been here for three months or more; nay, it was in October, well nigh six months, upon my life."

"And in those six months, what events have happened," exclaimed Madame de Chazeul, "to blast all our regard for her, to show her the veriest--but I will not give her the name she deserves. Suffice it, my dear brother, that not long ere I came hither, I found, by letters I discovered, that I had been nourishing a serpent in my house. I found her base, unworthy--impure, ambitious, scheming.--Sickened and indignant, I gave way, as I am too apt, to the fierce burst of passion; for I can never conceal what I feel; and drove her out to carry her schemes and vices elsewhere. But I speedily repented; and sent out to seek her, intending to treat her kindly, and, if I could not forgive her faults, to put her in the way of repentance and atonement: but she had gone off at once; and has since come hither, when, or how long ago, I know not. She has evidently been here in secret, however, for some time, prompting Rose to all this resistance, prejudicing her mind against Chazeul, whom the vain girl thought to wed herself, and inspiring her with continual schemes for thwarting our purposes. She had clearly heard all that had passed between me and Mademoiselle d'Albret; and when she found Rose was beginning to yield, as I showed her how resolute you are, forth she came to dare me, thinking that she could frighten me by her influence over her uncle, and her threats.--I believe she would have struck me had she dared; but I taught her, I was not to be intimidated, laughed her menaces to scorn, and gave her to understand that I would now expose all to you, though I had hitherto carefully concealed her guilt and folly from all ears--even from her uncle's. It was wonderful to see how the girl's daring spirit was cowed before a little firmness, how she shrunk and quailed. She would have fled, indeed, perhaps to brew new mischief; but I resolved that should not be; and, like one of the men who tame the Lions at the Louvre, I assumed a commanding tone, and ordered her to retire into her uncle's chamber, fully resolved not to let her forth till the marriage is over. It was then that she tried to run past me; but I called loudly for my people, and finding it in vain to resist, she obeyed, though sullenly and gloomily."

"To the priest's chamber!" said Monsieur de Liancourt. "Will not all this rouse good father Walter? Why, there was noise enough to wake the dead."

"Oh! no!" replied the Marchioness, who had foreseen that such a question might be put, and was prepared with an answer. "It would have roused him, certainly, if he had been in his own chamber; but he was so faint and ill, with long watching, doubtless, fasting and prayer, that the people who were with him took him first into the sacristy, and then to a room on the ground floor, rather than carry him up stairs. There he sleeps quietly, and, doubtless, will awake quite refreshed and well. I only dread having to tell him this story of his niece, for I do not think he knows it yet. She looks very ill, poor wretch; and I should not wonder if her violent temper killed her; but, if possible, I will still keep the matter secret from all but her uncle."

"Do, do," replied the Count; "her violent temper! Why, she was the most gentle and timid of creatures, Jacqueline."

"Ay, so she seemed," replied Madame de Chazeul; "but vice and ambition have brought forth the natural character: and, if you had seen her just now, you would not have said that she was gentle. I thought she would have stabbed either me or herself; and yet, it made me laugh to witness her impotent rage.--But, to return to Rose. She now knows her fate fully: for, as soon as I told her you had sworn, it was easy to see, that her knowledge of your firmness, showed her that your word was quite irrevocable."

The Count looked gloomily down upon the ground; for he would fain have shrunk from the task she put upon him; and yet, like all weak people, endeavoured to assume the qualities that were imputed to him.

"Yes," he said; "having sworn it, I must do it; and it is certainly necessary for her own reputation, after what you have told me, and what the other people saw, that she should marry him at once. It must be done--that is clear."

"Ay!" answered Madame de Chazeul; "whether she slept in her own chamber or another. It is known, unfortunately, to so many people that Chazeul, like a rash and foolish boy, passed a great part of the night in her usual room that, for both their sakes, there must be no delay: and, besides, your word must be kept, as it always is."

"Certainly," replied the Count, working himself up to the pitch required; "and it shall be kept, by all I hold sacred."

The repetition of the oath was very pleasant to Madame de Chazeul, for she knew that her brother would not now shrink from its execution; and that, in order to guard against his own vacillation, he would assume an air of violence and sternness, calculated to intimidate all remonstrance, and overbear all opposition.

"Well, then, Anthony," she said, "as we have now but little time to spare, I will go and make some change in my apparel; and, sending for Rose's maid, Blanchette, give her orders for dressing her mistress in something like bridal costume."

"Do you think I ought to go and formally inform her of my resolution?" asked the Count.

"As you please," answered Madame de Chazeul; "and yet, perhaps, you had better not. I have told her already; and, if she have no further inducement to display a headstrong spirit, we shall find her less obstinate at the time of the marriage. We shall have some affectation of reluctance, beyond doubt: but it will be soon got over when she finds you firm; and if you then go and bring her from her chamber, it will be enough. You will thus have only one disagreeable scene instead of two."

"The fewer the better," replied the Count. "But, where is Chazeul?--has he returned yet?"

"No," answered the Marchioness, "I fancy he is afraid to meet you: but I will send down to the village, and tell him to come up, if you will promise not to be too angry."

"I must reproach him," said the Count, putting on a firm and dignified air. "You must admit, Jacqueline, that he has been very much in the wrong."

"Well, I know he has," answered the Marchioness. "But, however, his fault will all be done away with by the marriage, and so there is no use of saying too much about it."

"Ay, but I must say something," answered Monsieur de Liancourt. "However, go and make your preparations, for it is now past ten; and, immediately after the marriage, I will see Helen de la Tremblade myself, and inquire into the whole case, that I may break the tidings to poor father Walter.--'Tis very odd that she should become such as you represent, for she was as sweet and gentle a girl as ever I saw."

Madame de Chazeul left him without reply and entered her bed-room, while the Count retired by the other door. But, ere she reached the dressing-table, she paused twice; and at length, after a few moments' meditation, murmured to herself, "No, that must be prevented."