Madame de Chazeul gazed at her with rage struggling with surprise. "You are wonderfully tranquil," she said, at length; "but still all your calmness will not disprove to the good busy world what several persons, independent of each other, know: that Monsieur de Chazeul passed more than one hour in your chamber last night, and that your maid admits the fact."
"I have better witnesses than my calmness, Madam," replied Rose d'Albret, "who will be quite credible against your servants, planted on purpose on the stairs, and my maid, bribed long ago to betray and deceive her mistress; and they will prove that, warned of the base scheme contrived against me, informed of all its particulars, I slept undisturbed in another chamber; and that, if your son thought fit to pass his time in this place, he passed it here alone."
"It is the priest!" muttered Madame de Chazeul. "I have not spoken with him, since my return hither," said Rose, who caught the words not intended for her ear.
"Who are your witnesses, then, girl?" exclaimed Madame de Chazeul. "I do not believe you! The whole tale is false, invented but to screen your own dishonour."
"My witnesses I will produce when need may be," answered Rose, "but not to Madame de Chazeul alone; and, for the rest, you know right well, which tale is false, and which is true. It is needless to argue with one so well informed already. Moreover, remember, that no force shall ever make me wed your son. My hand is promised by myself to him, for whom my father destined it; and the well-devised story of his death has failed, as well as the artful scheme that followed it. I now know him to be living, as well, or, rather, better than you do; and you may find that he is so when you least expect to see him."
The Marchioness turned red, and then pale, even through the paint upon her face; but, for several moments, she made no reply, turning rapidly in her mind every chance in the wide range of circumstances that could have given to Rose the information she possessed. Be it remarked, however, that she never doubted the truth of what that Lady said; for, though the deceitful are ever suspicious, there is something in the plain, straightforward simplicity of truth, which raises it, in general, above doubt. Men may affect to disbelieve it, when it militates against them, but in their heart they recognize it for what it is.
"If the priest had not told her, who had?" Madame de Chazeul asked herself. "Could it be the maid?" But then Blanchette had not been informed of the whole plan. "Could it be one of the servants?" None knew more than a part. "Could Chazeul have betrayed the secret to some of his own people, who again had communicated it to Rose?" It was most improbable. "Could De Montigni himself have returned, and made his way into the château unperceived?" It might be so; but still her scheme was unknown to him. She was in a maze, which, with all her quick wit, she could not thread; and all that she could decide upon doing, was to pursue her plan boldly, to exercise all her influence over her brother's mind, to blind his eyes and overrule the better feelings of his heart, and to watch warily for every accident, to guard against any event, which might frustrate her design.
"It is all very well, Mademoiselle d'Albret," she said at length, in a calmer but not less stern tone than she had hitherto employed, "to set your simple assertions against facts unfortunately too well and widely known. I shall be happy to hear, when you are my son's wife, the proofs that you say you can give, that you did not commit the imprudence, to call it no worse, of admitting him to your chamber in secrecy and silence, at an hour past midnight. It will be a great satisfaction to me, and I will take care that those who witnessed the scene, and may otherwise spread the scandal abroad in the world, shall be present to hear your exculpation.--But it must be as my son's wife, for your guardian and myself have consulted, and have determined, that it is absolutely necessary for your fame and respectability that you should be united to him without delay. My brother, indeed, has sworn a dreadful oath, that he will compel you to obey before noon; and you well know when he has sworn--"
"Oh no, no!" cried Rose, now greatly agitated, "not sworn.--He would never swear!"
"Ay, but he has!" answered Madame de Chazeul; "he has sworn by all he holds sacred,--he has called down the vengeance of heaven on his head,--he has taken the name of his God and his Saviour to witness, that he will force you to follow his will, and relieve your name of the stain that hangs upon it, by your marriage with Nicholas de Chazeul."