The baron turned round towards me with evident surprise at my tone and manner, and with some sternness, but without the slightest touch of scorn, demanding, "What is it you wish to say?"
"Merely this, sir," I replied; "I have been somewhat too long a burden to you. I am now more than twenty years of age, and ought probably to have done before what I intend to do now, namely, seek my own fortunes, and endeavour to provide for my own necessities, without remaining dependant upon any one. I am perfectly competent, I believe, in every respect, to gain my bread as my father did his. I ask nothing of you in any shape; and only now seek to inform you that I will leave the chateau to-morrow, with many thanks for the shelter and bread you have afforded me."
I never in my life beheld the countenance of my cousin express so much surprise. I saw him waver for a moment, as if he were going to turn and leave me with contempt; but the grief he had lately suffered, the chastening sight of death, and the service which I had rendered to his son, gave to a better spirit than that which usually actuated him the predominance for a moment; and, turning round, with a look both mournful and reproachful, he said,
"No, Henry, no; do not leave the poor children now. If not for my sake, for their mother's memory, stay with them still for a while. La Tour will also be with you and with them. But he is growing aged, his health is feeble, his life insecure; my own life, God knows when it may end; and while I am obliged to be absent, and before I have determined what to do with them, I would fain have some kindred blood near. On my return from Paris, which will not be very long, you shall be free to do as you please, and I will promote your views to the utmost of my power."
He spoke with a tone of command which I might have been inclined to resist, had there not been mingled with it a certain degree of confidence and kindness, the value of which was certainly enhanced not a little by its rarity. I made no reply; indeed, I had not time; for, taking it for granted that I acquiesced, he quitted me immediately.
A long conversation ensued between him and Monsieur la Tour, in which he arranged everything regarding the maintenance of his family during his absence, and the proper regulation of the chateau. A portion of the rents were ordered to be paid to the pastor for the expenses of the house; and the worthy man promised never to quit the family for more than one day. My cousin spoke of me too, I found; and, according to Monsieur la Tour's representation, spoke with some kindness. I am inclined to believe, however, that the minister's representations were the cause of his acting towards me ere he quitted the chateau, I may say more wisely, as well as more kindly, than he had previously done.
The regulation of all expenses was confided to the clergyman; he received and he paid for everything. But a portion, though a small one, of the sum allowed, was ordered to be given into my hands, to be employed for my own purposes, and for any military repairs or arrangements that I might think required in the castle. Two servants, at my choice, were to be considered as my own especial attendants; and the baron himself announced to the retainer's assembled in the public hall, that, in case of peril or attack, from the tide of war rolling in that direction, the supreme command of all things was to rest with me during his absence.
No sooner had these arrangements been made, than he himself set out again for Paris, promising to return at the end of six months; and leaving an old and faithful attendant of his dead wife as in some sort the governess of his daughter.
The affection which the baroness had always entertained towards me, had communicated itself to the good old servant I have mentioned, Donine le Mery; and she declared, after the baron was gone, that the greatest consolations she could receive after the death of her mistress were, first, the promise of her lord that she should remain ever with Mademoiselle Louise, and next to see me have the command of the castle. Whatever she sought, whatever she wished for, the good soubrette came to me to seek it; and if Louise herself had been inclined to cling to me with all a sister's affection before her mother's death, she was now ten times more disposed to do so, when she had no other companion to whom she could pour forth undisguised all her feelings and all her thoughts. Her brothers, younger than herself in age, were still younger in mind; and her good attendant, though the best of all creatures, was too far below her in education to permit of any interchange of thought between them.
To me, therefore, the poor girl turned with the full confidence of childhood and unbounded affection. I was the companion of her walks, and of her rides, and of her solitary hours. I remembered her as an infant; I had seen her grow up day by day under my eyes; time seemed to make no difference; she was still a mere child in my sight. I looked upon her as a dear but far younger sister; and I never found that either I myself or any one else could dream there was a possibility that such a change could take place in her feelings or in mine which could be dangerous to the one or to the other.