The Indiscretion of the Duchess Part 35

Marie started, but she met the d.u.c.h.ess' eyes and answered in a low voice with a single word:

"No."

"Ah, well!" said the little d.u.c.h.ess with a sigh; and, if I read aright what she expressed, it was a pitying recognition of the reason in that answer: he could not have expected anyone to love him, she seemed to say.

And if that were so, then indeed had the finger of truth guided the duke in the penning of his epitaph.

We three, who were standing round the body, seemed sunk in our own thoughts, and it was Gustave de Berensac who went to the servant and bade him bring the carriage nearer to where we were; and when it was come, they two lifted the duke in and disposed his body as well as they could. The man mounted the box, and at a foot-pace we set out. The d.u.c.h.ess had not spoken again, nor had Marie Delha.s.se; but when I took my place by Marie the d.u.c.h.ess suffered Gustave to join her, and in this order we pa.s.sed along. But before we had gone far, when indeed we had but just reached the road, we met four of the police hurrying along; and before they came to us or saw what was in the carriage, one cried:

"Have you seen a small spare man pa.s.s this way lately? He would be running perhaps, or walking fast."

I stepped forward and drew them aside, signing the carriage to go on and to the others to follow it.

"I can tell you all there is to be told about him, if you mean the man whom I think you mean," said I. "But I doubt if you will catch him now."

And with that I told them the story briefly, and so far as it affected the matter they were engaged upon; and they heard it with much astonishment.

For they had tracked Pierre (or Raymond Pinceau as they called him, saying it was his true name) to Bontet's stable, on the matter of the previous attempt on the necklace and the death of Lafleur, and on no other, and did not think to hear such a sequel as I unfolded to them.

"And if you will search," said I, "some six yards behind the wall, and maybe a quarter of a mile from the road, I fancy you will find Bontet; he may have crawled a little way, but could not far, I think. As for the Duke of Saint-Maclou, gentlemen, his body was in the carriage that pa.s.sed you this moment. And I am at your service, although I would desire, if it be possible, to be allowed to follow my friends."

There being but four of them and their anxiety being to achieve the capture of Pierre, they made no difficulty of allowing me to go on my way, taking from me my promise to present myself before the magistrate at Avranches next day; and leaving two to seek for Bontet, the other two made on, in the hope of finding a boat to take them to the Mount, whither they conceived the escaped man must have directed his steps.

Thus delayed, I was some time behind the others in reaching the inn, and I found Gustave waiting for me in the entrance. The body of the duke had been carried to his own room and a messenger sent to procure a proper conveyance. Marie Delha.s.se was upstairs, and Gustave's message to me was that the d.u.c.h.ess desired to see me.

"Nay," said I, "there is one thing I want to do before that;" and I called to a servant girl who was hovering between terror and excitement at the events of the evening, and asked her whether Mme. Delha.s.se had returned.

"No, sir," she answered. "The lady left word that she would be back in half an hour, but she has not yet returned."

Then I said to Gustave de Berensac, laying my hand on his shoulder:

"When I am married, Gustave, you will not meet my mother-in-law in my house;" and I left Gustave staring in an amazement not unnatural to his ignorance. And I allowed myself to be directed by the servant girl to where the d.u.c.h.ess sat.

The d.u.c.h.ess waited till the door was shut, and then turned to me as if about to speak, but I was beforehand with her; and I began:

"Forgive me for speaking of the necklace, but I fear it is still missing."

The d.u.c.h.ess looked at me scornfully.

"He gave it to the girl again, I suppose?" she asked.

"He gave it," I answered, "to the girl's mother, and she, I fear, has made off with it;" and I told the d.u.c.h.ess how Mme. Delha.s.se had laid her plot.

The d.u.c.h.ess heard me in silence, but at the end she remarked:

"It does not matter. I would never have worn the thing again; but it was a pretty plot between them."

"The duke had no thought," I began, "but that--"

"Oh, I meant between mother and daughter," said the d.u.c.h.ess. "The mother gets the diamonds from my husband; the daughter, it seems, Mr. Aycon, is likely to get respectability from you; and I suppose they will share the respective benefits when this trouble has blown over."

It was no use to be angry with her; to confess the truth, I felt that anger would come ill from me. So I did but say very quietly:

"I think you are wrong. Mlle. Delha.s.se knew nothing of her mother's device."

"You do not deny all of what I say," observed the d.u.c.h.ess.

"Mlle. Delha.s.se," I returned, "is in no need of what you suggest; but I hope that she will be my wife."

"And some day," said the d.u.c.h.ess, "you will see the necklace--or perhaps that would not be safe. Madame will send the money."

"When it happens," said I, "on my honor, I will write and tell you."

The d.u.c.h.ess, with a toss of her head which meant "Well, I'm right and you're wrong," rose from her seat.

"I must take poor Armand home," said she. "M. de Berensac is going with me. Will you accompany us?"

"If you will give me a delay of one hour, I will most willingly."

"What have you to do in that hour, Mr. Aycon?"

"I purpose to escort Mlle. Delha.s.se back to the convent and leave her there. I suppose we shall all have to answer some questions in regard to this sad matter, and where can she stay near Avranches save there?"

"She certainly can't come to my house," said the d.u.c.h.ess.

"It would be impossible under the circ.u.mstances," I agreed.

"Under any circ.u.mstances," said the d.u.c.h.ess haughtily.

By this time a covered conveyance had been procured, and when the d.u.c.h.ess, having fired her last scornful remark at me, walked to the door of the inn, the body of the duke was being placed in it. Gustave de Berensac a.s.sisted the servant, and their task was just accomplished when Jacques Bontet was carried by two of the police to the door. The man was alive and would recover, they said, and be able to stand his trial. But as yet no news had come of the fortune that attended the pursuit of Raymond Pinceau, otherwise known as Pierre. It was conjectured that he must have had a boat waiting for him at or near the Mount, and, gaining it, had for the moment at least made good his escape.

"But we shall find about that from Bontet," said one of them, with a complacent nod at the fellow who lay still in a sort of stupor, with blood-stained bandages round his head.

I stood by the door of the d.u.c.h.ess' carriage, in which she and Gustave were to follow the body of the duke, and when she came to step in I offered her my hand. But she would have none of it. She got in una.s.sisted, and Gustave followed her. They were about to move off, when suddenly, running from the house in wild dismay, came Marie Delha.s.se, and caring for none of those who stood round, she seized my arm, crying:

"My mother is neither in the sitting room nor in her bedroom! Where is she?"

Now I saw no need to tell Marie at that time what had become of Mme.

Delha.s.se. The matter, however, was not left in my hands; no, nor in those of Gustave de Berensac, who called out hastily to the driver, "Ready! Go on, go on!" The d.u.c.h.ess called "Wait!" and then she turned to Marie Delha.s.se and said in calm cold tones:

"You ask where your mother is. Well, then, where is the necklace?"

Marie drew back as though she had been struck; yet her grip did not leave my arm, but tightened on it.

"The necklace?" she gasped.

And the d.u.c.h.ess, using the most scornful words she knew and giving a short little laugh, said.

"Your mother has levanted with the necklace. Of course you didn't know!"

Thus, if Marie Delha.s.se had been stern to the Duke of Saint-Maclou when he lay dying, his wife avenged him to the full and more. For at the words, at the sight of the d.u.c.h.ess' disdainful face and of my troubled look, Marie uttered a cry and reeled and sank half-fainting in my arms.