The Indiscretion of the Duchess Part 28

Across the puzzled mournful eyes of the rejected lover and bewildered friend I thought I saw a little gleam.

"The d.u.c.h.ess?" said he.

"Yes, she's all alone. The duke's not there."

"Where is the duke?" he asked; but, as it struck me, now rather in precaution than in curiosity.

"That's what I'm going to see," said I.

And with hope and resolution born again in my heart I broke into a fair run, and, with a wave of my hand, left Gustave in the middle of the road, staring after me and plainly convinced that I was mad. Perhaps I was not far from that state. Mad or not, in any case after three minutes I thought no more of my good friend Gustave de Berensac, nor of aught else, save the inn outside Pontorson, just where the old road used to turn toward Mont St. Michel. To that goal I pressed on, forgetting my weariness and my pain. For it might be that the carriage would still stand in the yard, and that in the house I should come upon the object of my search.

Half an hour's walk brought me to the inn, and there, to my joy, I saw the carriage drawn up under a shed side by side with the inn-keeper's market cart. The horses had been taken out; there was no servant in sight. I walked up to the door of the inn and pa.s.sed through it. And I called for wine.

A big stout man, wearing a blouse, came out to meet me. The inn was a large one, and the inn-keeper was evidently a man of some consideration, although he wore a blouse. But I did not like the look of him, for he had s.h.i.+fty eyes and a bloated face. Without a word he brought me what I ordered and set it down in a little room facing the stable yard.

"Whose carriage is that under your shed?" I asked, sipping my wine.

"It is the carriage of the Duke of Saint-Maclou, sir," he answered readily enough.

"The duke is here, then?"

"Have you business with him, sir?"

"I did but ask you a simple question," said I. "Ah! what's that? Who's that?"

I had been looking out of the window, and my sudden exclamation was caused by this--that the door of a stable which faced me had opened very gently, and but just wide enough to allow a face to appear for an instant and then disappear. And it seemed to me that I knew the face, although the sight of it had been too short to make me sure.

"What did you see, sir?" asked the inn-keeper. (The name on his signboard was Jacques Bontet.)

I turned and faced him full.

"I saw someone look out of the stable," said I.

"Doubtless the stable-boy," he answered; and his manner was so ordinary, unembarra.s.sed, and free from alarm, that I doubted whether my eyes had not played me a trick, or my imagination played one upon my eyes.

Be that as it might, I had no time to press my host further at that moment; for I heard a step behind me and a voice I knew saying:

"Bontet, who is this gentleman?"

I turned. In the doorway of the room stood the Duke of Saint-Maclou. He was in the same dress as when he had parted from me; he was dusty, his face was pale, and the skin had made bags under his eyes. But he stood looking at me composedly, with a smile on his lips.

"Ah!" said he, "it is my friend Mr. Aycon. Bontet, bring me some wine, too, that I may drink with my friend." And he added, addressing me: "You will find our good Bontet most obliging. He is a tenant of mine, and he will do anything to oblige me and my friends. Isn't it so, Bontet?"

The fellow grunted a surly and none too respectful a.s.sent, and left the room to fetch the duke his wine. Silence followed on his departure for some seconds. Then the duke came up to where I stood, folded his arms, and looked me full in the face.

"It is difficult to lose the pleasure of your company, sir," he said.

"If you will depart from here alone," I retorted, "you shall find it the easiest thing in the world. For, in truth, it is not desire for your society that brings me here."

He lifted a hand and tugged at his mustache.

"You have, perhaps, been to the convent?" he hazarded.

"I have just come from there," I rejoined.

"I am not an Englishman," said he, curling the end of the mustache, "and I do not know how plain an intimation need be to discourage one of your resolute race. For my part, I should have thought that when a lady accepts the escort of one gentleman, it means that she does not desire that of another."

He said this with a great air and an a.s.sumption of dignity that contrasted strongly with the unrestrained paroxysms of the night before. I take it that success--or what seems such--may transform a man as though it changed his very skin. But I was not skilled to cross swords with him in talk of that kind, so I put my hands in my pockets and leaned against the shutter and said bluntly:

"G.o.d knows what lies you told her, you see."

His white face suddenly flushed; but he held himself in and retorted with a sneer:

"A disabled right arm gives a man fine courage."

"Nonsense!" said I. "I can aim as well with my left;" and that indeed was not very far from the truth. And I went on: "Is she here?"

"Mme. and Mlle. Delha.s.se are both here, under my escort."

"I should like to see Mlle. Delha.s.se," I observed.

He answered me in low tones, but with the pa.s.sion in him closer to the surface now and near on boiling up through the thin film of his self-restraint:

"So long as I live, you shall never see her."

But I cared not, for my heart leaped in joy at his words. They meant to me that he dared not let me see her; that, be the meaning of her consent to go with him what it might, yet he dared not match his power over her against mine. And whence came the power he feared? It could be mine only if I had touched her heart.

"I presume she may see whom she will," said I still carelessly.

"Her mother will protect her from you with my help."

There was silence for a minute. Then I said:

"I will not leave here without seeing her."

And a pause followed my words till the duke, fixing his eyes on mine, answered significantly:

"If you leave here alive to-night, you are welcome to take her with you."

I understood, and I nodded my head.

"My left arm is as sound as yours," he added; "and, maybe, better practiced."

Our eyes met again, and the agreement was sealed. The duke was about to speak again, when a sudden thought struck me. I put my hand in my pocket and drew out the Cardinal's Necklace. And I flung it on the table before me, saying:

"Let me return that to you, sir."

The duke stood regarding the necklace for a moment, as it lay gleaming and glittering on the wooden table in the bare inn parlor. Then he stepped up to the table, but at the moment I cried: