The Mystery of the Lost Dauphin Part 23

"Come, take heart! How did he save himself?"

"He and three others swam ash.o.r.e. The waves dashed them against the rocks, wounding and bruising them seriously. One of the men died from the effects; two others are lying on their backs in a fisherman's hut, and the only other of the party--was ever misfortune equal to this?--the only other,--he whose bruises amounted only to pinches and who speedily recovered sufficient strength to write a number of letters,--each of which is a dagger thrust in our sides--is that--cursed dog,--that--fiend--Volpetti!"

Giacinto clutched his fine black hair and tore a handful from his head.

"Fate is against us," said Louis Pierre gloomily. "And Soliviac?"

"Aboard the Polipheme, on the sea, coasting toward Cherbourg. He would gladly sail away to Hamburg, out of danger's way, were he not a knight.

He stays because we may have need of him."

"So you have accomplished nothing?"

"Nothing. After Volpetti communicated with the prefect, a guard of soldiers surrounded the hut in which he was recovering. 'Tis a wonder that I was not captured for I have been chased like a wild beast. A bullet pierced my cap and I have reached you by miracle."

Louis Pierre interrupted:

"You and I must leave for Paris at once. If one of us be killed, the other may reach the city and warn Naundorff. We shall take separate routes."

"Very well, but we need horses and money."

"Mademoiselle," said Louis Pierre, "you will be safe, here. Danger cannot reach you with Vilon as a guard. Otherwise, I should not leave you. You know the secret pa.s.sages and are safe from all the spies and European cabinets in existence. As for us, we are burning our last cartridge in going to Paris. Volpetti has unlimited resources: gendarmerie, regular troops, magistrates, spies and those fellows who go by the name of 'Partisans of the Order.' What a tremendous mistake it was to let Volpetti go. If we today considered our own safety, we should immediately board the Polipheme and depart forever from the coasts of France."

Amelie rose and stretched a hand to each Carbonaro:

"Defenders of a cause you espoused through generosity, friends, brothers, you shall live always in my heart. If my father's act in freeing Volpetti bring evil to you, O forgive him! I implore you on my knees." And the beautiful girl was sinking to the floor, when the Knights interposed and raised her. They pressed their lips upon her white hands, as though she were a queen. They left without a word, for their voices were full of tears. From a window, she watched them leave and her brave spirit sank within her.

After their departure, she seemed to fall into a lethargy. She missed the long colloquies with Louis Pierre. Alone in the sumptuous apartments whose dust-covered portraits of ladies and paladins seemed to look upon her with cold disdain, she suffered the inevitable effect of isolation.

No letters reached her, for Rene trusted nothing to the mails. She tortured herself with surmises; she seemed to see her father in the hands of the police or in a dungeon; Rene the victim of some political snare, and the Carbonari prisoners on an indictment of piracy. And she told herself over and over that her father's absurd magnanimity had caused all the trouble.

Her only consolation was the companions.h.i.+p of Baby d.i.c.k, and the little fellow was never separated from her. Hours and hours they would sit together at the window which looked over the deep entrenchments, Amelie sewing, but with frequent interruptions, for she could not refrain from stroking Baby's soft curls or taking him on her knees. He, meanwhile, asked questions incessantly and, when she failed to reply promptly, covered her face with kisses. Silvano would lay his splendid head in her lap and look into her face with his great intelligent eyes.

Chapter IV

NIGHT

In the midst of her anxiety, a new trouble broke upon her,--the transformation taking place in her guardian, Jean. Not that the Breton permitted himself liberties; the deference he paid her was daily more marked and his att.i.tude--that of devote before an image--was more intensified; but the devote had eyes and the eyes would light up on beholding his mistress; he had hands and those hands would tremble in placing food on the table. She felt that he loved her with a wild, deep love which only his iron will controlled.

She instinctively accentuated the difference in their ranks; she no longer walked with him through the woods. Her fear of him increased daily until she entered none of the castle's apartments, remaining constantly in the boudoir or in Baby's little chamber which adjoined her own.

"This misfortune," she soliloquized, for as such she designated Vilon's pa.s.sion, "has its cause in my disguise. Had I appeared to him in my proper character he would never have dared. My G.o.d, help me! At the mercy of a man whose eyes dart lightning, and from whom I must conceal my fears, I have need of all my self-possession. If I falter, this splendid animal will grip me."

One night she lay awake listening to Vilon's furtive footfalls in the antechamber where, in his impa.s.sioned fidelity, he kept guard. Such vigilance, far from tranquilizing the girl, filled her with ever increasing terror. She tossed upon the gilded Pompadour bed, whose woodwork was carved in capricious and elegant mythological designs. The Marquise's pale shade seemed to be near. The child's tranquil breathing came to her from his little low bed, back of the embroidered Chinese screen. A tiny lamp, whose light was softened by a green gla.s.s globe, projected unsteady rays, which magnified shadows and increased her terror. She was fast becoming a victim to insomnia. Her lids closed but the light s.h.i.+ning through them wrought figures of fantastic dragons and pale oblique-eyed damsels and mandarins with drooping mustaches who first became animated and then disappeared. When these grotesque visions vanished, there glowed on the silken background G.o.ddesses and nymphs of Watteau pattern, who, descending from amid the bed carvings, danced gayly on with clattering satin shoes and gleaming bosoms. Their laughs rang shrill as they too vanished and there arose from the depths of the tangled forest the tanned countenance and blond hair of Jean Vilon. He seized one of the nymphs around the waist; the nymph was herself; she struggled vainly; he clasped his rude hands around her delicate neck and compressed it with gradually increasing force, almost extinguis.h.i.+ng life. In order to a.s.sure herself that all was delusion she opened wide her eyes just as the bra.s.s enameled clock pealed forth midnight.

In an effort to sleep, she turned on her side and drew the pillow over her face, but she continued to hear inexplicable noises. People seemed to be walking through the castle. Suddenly a wild hope filled her.

Perhaps her father, having triumphed, had summoned her to join him.

Perhaps Rene was the bearer of the good tidings. She raised herself on her elbow. No longer was there any question. Footsteps sounded through the vestibules, the antechambers, the salons; light gleamed under the door. Suddenly the lock was noisily forced and a lady in traveling costume, followed by two servants wearing the de Breze livery, walked swiftly toward the bed.

Amelie became speechless with amazement. Seated upright, she stared at the lady with wide eyes, who, in turn, fastened on the girl a hostile, terrible look. The two recognized each other. Amelie beheld again the arrogant faded beauty of the face so wonderfully like Rene's in feature and so different in expression. And the lady gazed again awestruck upon the facsimile of the countenance which in miniatures, pastels, oil-paintings, engravings, lithographs, snuff boxes, etc., was the object of compa.s.sionate adoration. The resemblance was at that moment so striking that the d.u.c.h.ess de Rousillon remained motionless, dominated by an involuntary reverence. Quickly recovering her sang froid, she said:

"Leave the bed!"

"Why are you here?" demanded Amelie. "Why have you forced an entrance into my room at such an hour?"

The girl's indignation momentarily disconcerted the lady, but very soon she laughed disdainfully:

"I might ask with what shadow of a right you have taken up quarters in my castle?"

"This castle, madam, appertains to Rene de Giac, Marquis de Breze."

"I am his mother. I come in his name and with full authority from him.

Rise at once if you have a sense of decency that we may talk in a suitable manner."

"Rene has given you no authority," protested the girl.

"My authority will soon be manifest," replied the d.u.c.h.ess.

"Jean Vilon! Jean Vilon!" called Amelie.

"Jean Vilon will not come. He is my slave. Do not become hysterical. And rise, I repeat. 'Twill be a pleasanter method than having my servants pull you out of bed."

"In order that I should rise, madam, these servants must retire. I am not accustomed to dressing in the presence of men."

The d.u.c.h.ess was constrained into making a signal. The liveried attendants placed the wax tapers on the mantel and left the apartment and Amelie deftly and modestly made a hasty toilet. Then she turned to the d.u.c.h.ess, saying:

"Will you now be good enough to explain your conduct?"

The d.u.c.h.ess advanced upon her in fury.

"I dare say," she hissed, "that you can guess I have come to break the cords by which you hold my son,--you and that imposter, your father. The scales have at last dropped from Rene's eyes; he is disillusioned and repentant. He revealed to me your hiding place. In his name I come."

"You lie, madam. May my soul be banished forever from G.o.d if Rene knows you are here. Did he know it, he would stand before me now and s.h.i.+eld me from you."

"Impertinent, intriguing adventuress! I tear away your mask. Believe what you choose regarding my son, but prepare to obey my orders."

"And I remind you that I am your son's betrothed wife."

"That pretence is the most amusing proof of your ingenuity. The wife of my son! So great an honor, Mademoiselle Naundorff, would overwhelm our family. The de Breze contract an alliance with the daughter of the convict Prussian watch-maker!--Let us talk rationally; you are the sweetheart of a good man who loves you devotedly. My steward, Jean Vilon, is ready to marry you at this moment."

"What!" shrieked Amelie. "What do you say of Jean Vilon?"

"That he is to be your excellent husband. The dear fellow is wild with joy in knowing that I have brought the chaplain in my chaise to bless the couple. You have made him lose his head about you. Ah, do not play the innocent. You have understood each other very well for some time. I shall stand sponsor and bestow a dot upon you. As for Jean? I shall give him the Plouret farm. In short you shall be consoled for not being the Marquise de Breze. The wife of an honest man is a more suitable position for your station--"

"Is this a nightmare?" cried Amelie. Then with supreme disdain, she added, "Not even Rene, himself, could obtain from me what you propose.

My life is in your hands, the life of the woman whom your son loves. But my will you cannot conquer. Drag me to the altar I will say no with my last breath."