The Bath Keepers Volume Ii Part 20

Ambroisine made haste to carry out the young countess's commands. By her direction, an intelligent man was sent to the old marquis, and he promised to bring back an answer as soon as possible.

But in those days prompt.i.tude was very slow. Post routes were not established until the reign of Louis XI, and then only for the king's service. Not until the reign of Louis XIII, in the year 1630, did the service a.s.sume some regularity, with the inauguration of the system of relays, and the appointment of inspectors to superintend the service.

But, for all that, as couriers intrusted with despatches by private individuals were still very rare on the highroads, the roads were, for that reason, in very bad repair; and the relay stations often had in their stables only a few gaunt nags, or donkeys masquerading as horses.

However, the time did not seem long to Bathilde, for she had her daughter--her daughter whom she nursed herself, unable to conceive that a mother could intrust that duty to a stranger when nature had not denied her the means to perform it herself. Thus the hours pa.s.sed like minutes, and the days flew by with surprising rapidity in the eyes of that young wife, who took such intense delight in nursing and rocking and caressing her child.

After several days the courier returned; he was the bearer of a letter which the old Marquis de Marvejols had delivered to him for the countess.

She hastily broke the seal; and as she knew how to read,--a rare accomplishment at that period among the daughters of the common people,--she soon knew the contents of the letter, which was thus conceived:

"MY DEAR BATHILDE:

"It gives me great pleasure to say that I will be sponsor to the daughter whom G.o.d has given to you. But, my dear child, it is impossible for me to come to you at this moment, for the gout holds me fast to my easy-chair; and when it once has its grip upon me, it does not readily relax it.

"Obtain a subst.i.tute for me, then, for that solemn ceremony, which should never be long delayed. Let some worthy gentleman hold the child in my name, and let her receive the name of Blanche; it was my wife's. To me it will be a memory and a source of hope.

"As for the G.o.dmother, I believe that I shall antic.i.p.ate your wishes by urging you to select for that agreeable post the excellent young girl who displays such loyal and devoted friends.h.i.+p for you.

"Adieu, my dear daughter. May heaven grant you long life to watch over the little angel, who, I doubt not, will cause you to forget all your past sufferings!

"MARQUIS DE MARVEJOLS."

The young countess put her lips to the letter written by her husband's father, saying:

"It shall be as you deign to permit, O venerable man, who read my heart so well.--Blanche! Blanche! that is your name, my darling, it is the name your grandfather gives you. Ah! how sweet it is to p.r.o.nounce! How well it suits the purity of your soul!--Blanche! one would say that she understands me already, and that she thanks me for giving her that name!"

Ambroisine rarely pa.s.sed a day without going to see Bathilde, especially since her friend had become a mother.

As soon as she reached the house, the young countess gave her the marquis's letter, saying:

"Read this; it concerns you too."

Ambroisine read the letter eagerly; her cheeks instantly flushed with joy and pleasure, and she threw her arms about her friend, crying:

"I shall be her G.o.dmother! he permits me to be your daughter's G.o.dmother!--What a n.o.ble old man!--Ah, yes! he knew right well that he would make us both happy by suggesting that!--And he gives her the name of Blanche--Blanche!"

Ambroisine stopped as if she had suddenly remembered something.

"What is it?" said Bathilde; "one would say that that name recalled some memory."

"No, no; I was reflecting."

"About whom I shall accord the honor of taking Monsieur de Marvejols's place, eh?--Mon Dieu! I confess that that embarra.s.ses me considerably; for I do not know any n.o.bleman. n.o.body comes here but you."

"Oh! do not be embarra.s.sed, do not think any more, for I have already thought of someone."

"You have? Of whom, pray?"

"Have you forgotten, dear Bathilde, that generous gentleman, who, when you were still at my father's house, authorized me to offer you his a.s.sistance, and promised to take care of your child--the Sire de Jarnonville?"

"Ah, yes! you are right, Ambroisine; I ought not to have forgotten him; forgive me. But, you see, I think of nothing but my daughter now!--Do you see him sometimes?"

"Yes, quite often, in fact; he comes to my father's, not to joke and talk nonsense with all those idle young n.o.blemen who rendezvous there, but to ask me about you and your child. Ah! he was heartily glad of your good fortune."

"And do you think that he will be willing to hold my child over the font, in monsieur le marquis's place?"

"Oh! I am sure that he will accept the post with great pleasure--he is so fond of children! For he is a widower, and he once had a little girl whom he adored, and her name was Blanche, like your child's.--That was what came into my mind just now."

"And what you dared not tell me, because he lost his daughter!--Oh!

don't be alarmed, dear Ambroisine, I am very far from seeing in that an omen of disaster for my Blanche. No, heaven has sent her to us to allay all our suffering. She has given me so much happiness, that I am sure that she will soften the Sire de Jarnonville's regrets in some degree.

He will transfer to her the love that he had for his own child."

That same evening the Black Chevalier stopped in front of the barber's house, and, as always, looked through the window to see if Ambroisine was there.

The girl's frank and sprightly conversation had insensibly lightened the Sire de Jarnonville's sombre humor; and often, without a previously formed intention, he walked in the direction of Rue Saint-Jacques, to obtain that distraction which became more necessary to him every day, and which he had begun to prefer to the debauches and combats that had formerly been an essential part of his life.

That evening Ambroisine was on the watch for the chevalier; for she was eager to tell him what Bathilde expected from him.

She very soon told him the tenor of the old marquis's response, and added, lowering her eyes, that she had made bold to say that the Sire de Jarnonville would consent to take his place and to represent him.

"You were quite right to give that a.s.surance," replied the chevalier, gently pressing Ambroisine's hand. "It will be an honor and a pleasure to me to act as G.o.dfather to the countess's child. Moreover, the Marquis de Marvejols is very old, and I am still young and strong. If the first G.o.dfather should die, it is only right that there should be one left to succeed him and to watch over the child, whose father seems determined to close his arms to her."

"The old marquis wishes the little girl to be named Blanche," said Ambroisine, hesitatingly.

"Blanche! Blanche!" murmured Jarnonville, letting his head droop on his breast. "Ah! that was the name of an angel!"

"Well! this is another angel, as you will see. You will be her protector, her second father. The little darling--she will love you dearly. She will not cause you to forget the other, but she will ask you to give her a little of the affection which you feel for all children, in memory of the child you have lost."

Jarnonville was too deeply moved to reply. He took leave of Ambroisine, saying:

"To-morrow I will go to pay my respects to madame la comtesse, and to receive her orders for the ceremony."

Two days after this conversation, the daughter of Leodgard and Bathilde was presented for baptism by the Sire de Jarnonville and Ambroisine.

An old gentleman who was a friend of the chevalier, Master Hugonnet, and a few faithful old retainers of the marquis, were the only witnesses of the ceremony, which Bathilde was too weak to attend.

When he carried little Blanche back to her mother and placed her in her arms, Jarnonville kissed the child's forehead. His emotion was most intense, for the little girl's features recalled the cherished darling whom he had lost. He could hardly articulate the words:

"Will you allow me, madame, to come occasionally to present my respects to you and to embrace this child?"

"Henceforth this house is open to you, seigneur," Bathilde replied. "You will honor me by coming here; you will make me happy by taking an interest in my daughter."

At first the Black Chevalier availed himself sparingly of the permission accorded him by the young mother. But as little Blanche developed, as her features became more individualized, as her eyes began to beam with something different from the vague expression of infancy, she became so lovely, there was so much sweetness and charm in her glance, that it was impossible not to feel the keenest interest in her, or to leave her without a secret determination to see her soon again.

As he gazed at little Blanche, Jarnonville tried to discover in her features some likeness to the child he had lost, and it rarely happened that he did not succeed; for in early childhood the little creatures almost always make use of the same cries, the same language, to express joy, grief, and pain.

Thus the chevalier's visits gradually became increasingly frequent, for with every day that pa.s.sed his affection for little Blanche strengthened.