One-Act Plays Part 18

VALSIN [_negligently_]. Not interest in her, governess, but in the Emigrant who cools his heels on the other side of that door, greatly to my enjoyment, waiting my pleasure to arrest him. The poor wretch is the one remaining lover of this girl; faithful because he let his pa.s.sion for her become a habit; and he will never get over it until he has had possession. She has made him suffer frightfully, but I shall never forgive her for not having dealt him the final stroke. It would have saved me all the bother I have been put to in avenging the injury he did me.

ELOISE [_frowning_]. What "final stroke" could she have "dealt" him?

VALSIN [_with sudden vehement intensity_]. She could have loved him!

[_He strikes the table with his fist._] I see it! I see it! Beauty's husband! [_Pounding the table with each exclamation, his voice rising in excitement._] What a vision! This d.a.m.ned, proud, loving Louis, a pomade bearer! A b.u.t.toner! An errand-boy to the perfumer's, to the chemist's, to the milliner's! A groom of the powder-closet--

ELOISE [_s.n.a.t.c.hing at the opportunity_]. How noisy you are!

VALSIN [_discomfited, apologetically_]. You see, it is only so lately that we of "the People" have dared even to whisper. Of course, now that we are free to shout, we overdo it. We let our voices out, we let our joys out, we let our hates out. We let everything out--except our prisoners! [_He smiles winningly._]

ELOISE [_slowly_]. Do you guess what all this bl.u.s.ter--this tirade upon the wickedness of beauty--makes me think?

VALSIN. Certainly. Being a woman, you cannot imagine a bitterness which is not "personal."

ELOISE [_laughing_]. "Being a woman," I think that the person who has caused you the greatest suffering in your life must be very good-looking!

VALSIN [_calmly_]. Quite right. It was precisely this d'Anville. I will tell you. [_He sits on the arm of a chair near her, and continues briskly._] I was not always a politician. Six years ago I was a soldier in the Valny regiment of cavalry. That was the old army, that droll army, that royal army; so ridiculous that it was truly majestic.

In the Valny regiment we had some rouge-pots for officers--and for a colonel, who but our Emigrant yonder! Aha! we suffered in the ranks, let me tell you, when Eloise had been coy; and one morning it was my turn. You may have heard that she was betrothed first to Louis and later to several others? My martyrdom occurred the day after she had announced to the court her betrothal to the young Duc de Creil, whose father afterward interfered. Louis put us on drill in a hard rain: he had the habit of relieving his chagrin like that. My horse fell, and happened to shower our commander with mud. Louis let out all his rage upon me: it was an excuse, and, naturally, he disliked mud. But I was rolling in it, with my horse: I also disliked it--and I was indiscreet enough to attempt some small reply. That finished my soldiering, Citizeness. He had me tied to a post before the barracks for the rest of the day. I remember with remarkable distinctness that the valets of heaven had neglected to warm the rain for that bath; that it was February; and that Louis's orders had left me nothing to wear upon my back except an unfulsome descriptive placard and my modesty.

Altogether it was a disadvantageous position, particularly for the exchange of repartee with such of my comrades as my youthful amiability had not endeared; I have seldom seen more cheerful indifference to bad weather. Inclement skies failed to injure the spectacle: it was truly the great performance of my career; some people would not even go home to eat, and peddlers did a good trade in cakes and wine. In the evening they whipped me conscientiously--my tailor has never since made me an entirely comfortable coat. Then they gave me the place of honor at the head of a procession by torchlight and drummed me out of camp with my placard upon my back. So I adopted another profession: I had a friend who was a doctor in the stables of d'Artois; and I knew horses. He made me his a.s.sistant.

ELOISE [_shuddering_]. You are a veterinarian!

VALSIN [_smiling_]. No; a horse-doctor. It was thus I "retired" from the army and became a politician. My friend was only a horse-doctor himself, but his name happened to be Marat.

ELOISE. Ah, frightful! [_For the first time she begins to feel genuine alarm._]

VALSIN. The sequence is simple. If Eloise d'Anville hadn't coquetted with young Creil I shouldn't be Commissioner here to-day, settling my account with Louis. I am in his debt for more than the beating: I should tell you there was a woman in my case, a slender lace-maker with dark eyes--very pretty eyes. She had furnished me with a rival, a corporal; and he brought her for a stroll in the rain past our barracks that day when I was attracting so much unsought attention.

They waited for the afterpiece, enjoyed a pasty and a bottle of Beaune, and went away laughing cozily together. I did not see my pretty lace-maker again, not for years--not until a month ago. Her corporal was still with her, and it was their turn to be undesirably conspicuous. They were part of a procession pa.s.sing along the Rue St.

Honore on its way to the Place of the Revolution. They were standing up in the cart; the lace-maker had grown fat, and she was scolding her poor corporal bitterly. What a habit that must have been!--they were not five minutes from the guillotine. I own that a thrill of grat.i.tude to Louis temporarily softened me toward him, though at the very moment I was following him through the crowd. At least he saved me from the lace-maker!

ELOISE [_shrinking from him_]. You are horrible!

VALSIN. To my regret you must find me more and more so.

ELOISE [_panting_]. You _are_ going to take us back to Paris, then? To the Tribunal--and to the--[_She covers her eyes with her hands._]

VALSIN [_gravely_]. I can give you no comfort, governess. You are involved with the Emigrant, and, to be frank, I am going to do as horrible things to Louis as I can invent--and I am an ingenious man.

[_His manner becomes sinister._] I am near the top. The cinders of Marat are in the Pantheon, but Robespierre still flames; and he claims me as his friend. I can do what I will. And I have much in store for Louis before he shall be so fortunate as to die!

ELOISE [_faintly_]. And--and Eloise--d'Anville? [_Her hands fall from her face: he sees large, beautiful tears upon her cheeks._]

VALSIN [_coldly_]. Yes. [_She is crushed for the moment; then, recovering herself with a violent effort, lifts her head defiantly and stands erect, facing him._]

ELOISE. You take her head because your officer punished you, six years ago, for a breach of military discipline!

VALSIN [_in a lighter tone_]. Oh no. I take it, just as she injured me--incidentally. In truth, Citizeness, it isn't I who take it: I only arrest her because the government has proscribed her.

ELOISE. And you've just finished telling me you were preparing tortures for her! I thought you an intelligent man. Pah! You're only a gymnast. [_She turns away from him haughtily and moves toward the door._]

VALSIN [_touching his scarf of office_]. True. I climb. [_She halts suddenly, as if startled by this; she stands as she is, her back to him, for several moments, and does not change her att.i.tude when she speaks._]

ELOISE [_slowly_]. You climb alone.

VALSIN [_with a suspicious glance at her_]. Yes--alone.

ELOISE [_in a low voice_]. Why didn't you take the lace-maker with you? You might have been happier. [_Very slowly she turns and comes toward him, her eyes full upon his: she moves deliberately and with incomparable grace. He seems to be making an effort to look away, and failing: he cannot release his eyes from the glorious and starry glamour that holds them. She comes very close to him, so close that she almost touches him._]

ELOISE [_in a half-whisper_]. You might have been happier with--a friend--to climb with you.

VALSIN [_demoralized_]. Citizeness--I am--I--

ELOISE [_in a voice of velvet_]. Yes, Say it. You are--

VALSIN [_desperately_]. I have told you that I am the most susceptible of men.

ELOISE [_impulsively putting her hand on his shoulder_]. Is it a crime? Come, my friend, you are a man who _does_ climb: you will go over all. You believe in the Revolution because you have used it to lift you. But other things can help you, too. Don't you need them?

VALSIN [_understanding perfectly, gasping_]. Need what? [_She draws her hand from his shoulder, moves back from him slightly, and crosses her arms upon her bosom with a royal meekness._]

ELOISE [_grandly_]. Do I seem so useless?

VALSIN [_in a distracted voice_]. Heaven help me! What do you want?

ELOISE. Let these people go. [_Hurriedly, leaning near him._] I have promised to save them: give them their permit to embark, and I--[_She pauses, flus.h.i.+ng beautifully, but does not take her eyes from him._]

I--I do not wish to leave France. My place is in Paris. You will go into the National Committee. You can be its ruler. You _will_ rule it!

I believe in you! [_Glowing like a rose of fire._] I will go with you.

I will help you! I will marry you!

VALSIN [_in a fascinated whisper_]. Good Lord! [_He stumbles back from her, a strange light in his eyes._]

ELOISE. You are afraid--

VALSIN [_with sudden loudness_]. I am! Upon my soul, I am afraid!

ELOISE [_smiling gloriously upon him_]. Of what, my friend? Tell me of what?

VALSIN [_explosively_]. Of myself! I am afraid of myself because I am a prophet. This is precisely what I foretold to myself you would do!

I knew it, yet I am aghast when it happens--aghast at my own cleverness!

ELOISE [_bewildered to blankness_]. What?

VALSIN [_half hysterical with outrageous vanity_]. I swear I knew it, and it fits so exactly that I am afraid of myself! _Aha_, Valsin, you rogue! I should hate to have you on _my_ track! Citizen governess, you are a wonderful person, but not so wonderful as this devil of a Valsin!

ELOISE [_vaguely, in a dead voice_]. I cannot understand what you are talking about. Do you mean--

VALSIN. And what a spell was upon me! I was near calling Dossonville to preserve me.

ELOISE [_speaking with a strange naturalness, like a child's_]. You mean--you don't want me?