"Perfectly," I replied, "and will be guided in all things by your counsel, Father. Would that you had come before to direct us!"
"Would I had!--would I had!" replied the Priest, sadly. "But it was impossible. I set out from Rennes as soon as I received your letter, and travelled even with far more haste than beseemed my age and my profession."
We now repaired to the chamber of Monsieur de Villardin, and made arrangements with the physician--in whom the Confessor appeared to place full confidence--for carrying into execution what had been already proposed. It was at once determined that we should each watch six hours at a time by the couch of the sick man, whose ravings were certainly of a nature to be kept secret as far as possible. Now he would call upon the Count de Mesnil--now use harsh and cruel words, as if towards his wife--now speak of a cunningly devised scheme to end it all at once--now talk of a bloody grave beneath the oak; and, in short, he would let drop a thousand wild and whirling words, which, with all their incoherence, might very well have led to the discovery of much that he would willingly have concealed, and to the suspicion of other acts, of which, perhaps, he was innocent, though he never gave his mind time to remain long enough upon the fearful facts that busied it, to pour forth anything like a coherent tale in regard to either of them.
As the physician had now done his part, and as I bore on my face sufficient traces of fatigue and anxiety, the Confessor took upon himself the first six hours' watch, saying, that while he sat up he would write to the uncle of Madame de Villardin, whose domains were situated in the Orleanois.
I certainly never remember to have been more fatigued, and willingly took advantage of the good Priest's proposal. As I retired with the medical man, however, I asked him eagerly what was the state in which he had found the Duke when we brought him home; and, in reply, he explained to me that though his skull was not fractured, yet a severe concussion of the brain had taken place, from his head having struck, in the fall, either some projecting rock, or some piece of the broken bridge. From the ravings which had since come on, he feared, he said, that there was a tendency to inflammation; and on my pressing to know what would be the result, he shook his head doubtingly, saying, that the result was in the hands of God alone; he himself could not venture to give an opinion on the subject.
I did not sleep more than four or five hours, and on rising, proceeded towards the apartments of Monsieur de Villardin, in order to take my place by his bedside. I found old Jerome Laborde already there, however; who, having been made aware of the arrangements of the preceding night, had come about half an hour before to relieve the Priest. By this time, the Duke had fallen into a quiet sleep, from which I augured well; and leaving the old major-domo to hold out his watch, I descended to the saloon, feeling most oppressively that deep and shadowy gloom which always seems to fall over a house where such a sudden and fatal event has taken place as that which distinguished the foregoing evening. The low voice in which every one spoke when they met, the stealthy pace with which every one moved about the mansion, the stillness which pervaded the whole place, expressed the sense of awe that was felt by every bosom, and had something awful in itself.
All this struck me much as I descended the stairs; but on entering the saloon, there was something more painful still to be encountered. The little Laura de Villardin was playing near one of the windows with some trinkets of her mother's, but the moment I entered, she ran up to me with open arms, and holding up her fair face towards me, exclaimed, "Oh! tell me--tell me, where is mamma? Suzette says she is dead, and I shall never see her again. What does dead mean? Where is she gone to?"
It was impossible to hear such questions calmly; and for the first time since my father's death, I wept like a child. Suzette herself now entered the saloon, and for a moment her eyes and mine met. Whether what I felt towards her was very visibly expressed in my glance or not, I cannot tell, but she turned extremely red, and casting down her eyes, caught the little girl by the arm and drew her rudely out of the room. In truth, I was not sorry to be spared more questions; and taking my hat, I walked forth into the park.
The morning was as warm and bright as that of the preceding day; and a feeling of painful curiosity impelled me directly towards the spot where the accident had occurred on the night before. I followed the exact path which I had pursued with Madame de Villardin, and as I turned from the lateral alley where we had met the Duke, into the short path which led to the broken bridge, I suddenly saw the form of Father Ferdinand standing at the very point to which I was directing my steps. He turned round as I approached, and without any apparent surprise beckoned me towards him. I walked on at once; and for two or three minutes after I had come up, we stood gazing together in silence upon all that remained of the wooden arch which had there spanned across the river, and which I myself had passed over on horseback not five days before. Very little of it was now to be seen, for full twelve feet of the centre had fallen into the river and had been carried away; but enough still remained attached to the piles at the sides to show, in some degree, the manner of the accident, though not the cause. The nails which had fixed the cross supports to the rafters had either given way or had been drawn out; and the two main beams which upheld the whole, having been deprived of everything that strengthened them, had broken at the side nearest the château, and, dragged down by their own weight from the piles on the other bank of the river, had fallen with the rest of the wood-work into the current, and been carried away.
A part, however, of one of them remained, as I have said, attached to the side where we stood; and after contemplating the whole for some time in silence, the Priest laid his hand upon my arm, as he saw my eyes fixed upon the broken beams, and he asked, in a tone half stern, half sorrowful, "Do you remark nothing there, my son?"