“Yes, I believe they are brave. But they know nothing of me, and they may imagine I deserve such outrageous treatment from the baron. It is a poor recommendation for me to have been introduced into society by my aunt, since she has the reputation—although most surely it is undeserved—of sacrificing everything to political interests.”
“Poor Margaret!” exclaimed Christian, struck by the painful position of this lovely girl.
He was so evidently sincere, and without the least thought of offensive familiarity, that Margaret did not resent his taking her hand; and besides, he dropped it again immediately, as he thought of their relative positions.
“Well,” he said, “you must take some resolution or other, at any rate.”
“It is taken already. It is only the first step that costs. From this time I will affront the terrible Olaus whenever we meet; I will tell him what I think of him before all the world; I prefer to pass for a perfect demon of malice, rather than for the favorite of this Dalecarlian pasha. And, after all, I shall defend myself better alone; for, if you were present, I should be afraid of having you take my part at your own peril, and that would make me more acquiescent. But I will not forget any more for that, the good counsel you gave me, and the chivalrous way in which you repulsed that frightful baron. I do not know whether we shall ever see each other again, but wherever you are, you will always have my good wishes, and I will pray to God to make you happier than I am.”
Christian was extremely touched by the sincere and affectionate manner of this charming girl. He made no display of affected gallantry, but his expressions, and the very sound of his voice, revealed the deepest emotion.
“Kind Margaret!” he said, lifting her pretty hand to his lips. “I swear to you truly that I also will remember you. Ah! why am I not rich and noble? Perhaps then I should have power to help you, and most certainly I would do everything in the world to obtain the happiness of being able to do so. But I am nothing, so I can do nothing.”
“But I thank you just as much,” replied Margaret. “You seem to me like a brother that I have never known, whom God has sent to me for a moment in the hour of my distress. Let this short meeting be so considered, and we will say good-by, without despairing of the future.”
Margaret’s candor caused Christian to feel a sense of remorse. M. Goefle might return at any moment, and it would be impossible for the young countess, after having been so much struck with the similarity between the voices of the false uncle and false nephew, not to detect the entire absence of any such resemblance when she should see them together. Besides, it was certain that M. Goefle would not lend himself to any such deceit; and it pained Christian to think that Margaret would retain an unfavorable recollection of him. So he confessed the truth of his own accord, acknowledging that he had allowed himself, as he did not know her, to play a joke at her expense, by disguising himself in the doctor’s pelisse and cap, and pretending to be he. He added that he had deeply repented, upon discovering how angelic a nature it was that he had thus been trifling with. Margaret was a little displeased. She had had an instant’s revelation of the truth, when Christian’s voice first fell upon her ear at the ball; but his manner was so perfectly natural when he told her that he had heard everything from the next room, that she had dismissed all doubts from her mind.
“Ah!” she said, “how skilful you are in deceiving, and how easy it is to be duped by your explanations! I cannot be offended at your joke in itself, for I was guilty of an imprudence in coming here, and I was properly punished by a mystification. But what I am sorry for is that you should have carried on the deceit for so long, with so much assurance and such an appearance of candor.”