Sir Jasper Carew Part 62

I took it with a strange, half-sickening sense of coming evil. I broke the seal, and read:--

Crillan, Three o'clock. Dear C,--We are off for England at a moment's warning, and have only time to counsel you to the same. There is some mischief brewing, and the d----d Tories are likely to involve us in another war. Keep this to yourself. Get your pa.s.sport ready, and let us soon see you across the water. With many regrets from F. and myself at the loss of your good dinner to-day, believe me Yours truly,

George Canthorpe.

The whole fabric in which I had been living for weeks past fell at once to the ground; all the illusions of my daily existence were suddenly swept away; and there I stood in presence of my own heart,--a poor bankrupt pretender, without one to know or acknowledge him!

I hastened to my room and sat down, for some minutes actually overwhelmed by the chaotic flood of thought that now poured through my brain. Very little calm consideration would have shown me that my real condition in life had undergone no change, that I stood precisely as I had done the day before,--a ruined, houseless adventurer! With a little reflection, too, it is not impossible I might have congratulated myself that my separation had not been brought about by any disgraceful discovery of my actual rank in life, and that I had escaped the humiliation of an exposure. These thoughts came later; for the moment all was sadness and gloomy depression.

The waiter entered to say that the carriage Monsieur had ordered was at the door, and it took me some minutes to recall my mind to the fact, and to remember that I had ordered a carriage to convey us to the restaurant. "Be it so," said I to myself, "let us play out the comedy;"

and with this resolve I proceeded to dress myself for dinner with all the elegance I could bestow on my toilet.

Had I been about to dine at court, I could not have been more particular. My sabot and ruffles were of the finest "Valenciennes;" my vest was white satin, richly embroidered with gold; and the hilt of my sword glittered with marqueseta and turquoise. I took a look at myself in the gla.s.s, and almost started back as I saw the contrast between this finery of my apparel and the haggard expression of my features; for though my cheek was flushed and my eyes sparkled, my mouth was drawn down, and my thin, parched lips denoted fever. There was that in my looks that actually scared myself.

"To the Fleur-de-Pois," said I, throwing myself back in the carriage; and away we drove along the crowded Boulevard, many an eye turned on the foppish figure that lounged so elegantly in his carriage, never suspecting the while what the tone of his thoughts at that moment was, and that he was gravely canva.s.sing within himself the strange stories that would circulate on the morrow, should his body be taken up in the "Filets de St. Cloud." True was it, the dark and muddy Seine, the cold, fast-flowing river, was never out of my thoughts. It swept, torrent-like, through all my reasoning, and the surging water seemed to rise and swell around me. At that moment short, fitful thoughts of the long past shot through my mind; and my mother, and Raper, and Margot too, came and went before me. Where were all the teachings of my infancy now; where the holy aspirations of my early boyhood; where the simple tastes and lowly desires, the home affections and blest humility I once loved to dream over; where that calm existence, so bounded by easy ambitions; and where, above all, that honesty of life that spurned every thought of deception? "A meet ending for such a career," said I, bitterly, as I gazed down on the river along whose bank we were driving.

"Ay," thought I, as we pa.s.sed along, "there is not one so miserable nor so poor with whom I would not change places, only that this mockery should cease, and that I should be something to my own heart besides a cheat."

The day suddenly grew overcast, the clouds ma.s.sed themselves heavily together, and the rain began to descend in torrents. When we reached the restaurant the storm had become a hurricane, and all who had been preparing to dine through the arbors of the garden were quickly driven to seek shelter within doors. As I descended from the carriage, all was tumult and confusion; for although every available spot had been given up to the guests, yet from their numbers they were crowded together most uncomfortably, and loud and angry complaints and remonstrances were heard on all sides. In vain the waiters heard patiently or answered courteously the various discontents of those who appealed to their rank and station as claims for special consideration. Distinguished generals, ministers, great leaders of fas.h.i.+on, were all condemned to the same indiscriminate fortune of humbler natures.

From where I sat in the little _salon_ reserved for myself, I could overhear these complaints and remonstrances, and it was in a kind of savage irony with Fortune that I bethought me of my sumptuous lot in comparison with the discomforts of those around me. Twice or thrice was my door flung open by persons in search of an apartment, and in this confusion and shame I revelled as in a momentary triumph. At length, in an interval of comparative quiet, I thought I heard voices whispering outside my door. I listened, and could distinguish that they were female accents, and discussing, as it seemed, some project on which they were not agreed. One appeared to insist as eagerly as the other was bent upon opposing; and the words, "Mais oui," "Mais non," followed in quick succession. I know not how it was, but I conceived a most intense curiosity to learn the subject of the discussion. I felt as if I must have some share or concern in the matter, and eagerly bent my ear to hear further. Nor was I wrong. The question argued was, whether or not the two ladies should appeal to the gallantry of the occupant of the room to afford them shelter till such time as their carriage might arrive to fetch them for Paris. She who spoke with more authority was in favor of the appeal, while the younger voice expressed dissent to it.

Being in a measure a party to the cause, I resolved to lend what influence I might possess towards the decision; and so, flinging wide the door, I saluted the strangers courteously, and informing them that I had accidentally overheard their discussion, begged they would permit me to decide it by placing my apartment at their disposal at once. The elder of the two immediately addressed me in a tone and manner that bespoke a person of condition, accepting my hospitality, but only on the condition that I myself should remain, for I had made a gesture indicative of departure. The younger, with a veil closely drawn across her face, courtesied without speaking. I at once acceded, and placing chairs for my guests, requested them to be seated.

The waiter at length made his appearance to say dinner was ready "whenever Monsieur desired it." This was a new difficulty, and I really felt much embarra.s.sed by it. Resolving, however, to adopt the bold course, I hastily apologized for the great liberty I was about to take, and after briefly explaining the departure of the two friends I had expected, begged they would allow me to believe that Fortune had really been kind to me for once, in replacing them.

A sign of half-impatience by the younger was speedily corrected by the other, as she said,--

"Monsieur forgets that we are strangers to each other."

But there was nothing like rebuke in the tone she spoke in; but rather, as I thought, a suggestive hint thrown out to provoke some effort at explanation on my part. I was right in this conjecture, as I speedily saw by the degree of attention she vouchsafed me.

Perhaps if I had had a better cause, I should not have pleaded so successfully. I mean, that if I had been really the owner of a high name and station, it is just possible I might not so ably have combated the difficulty of the situation.

"At all events," said the elder lady, "Monsieur has one advantage: he knows who we are."

"I shame to say, Madame," said I, bowing low, "that, in my ignorance of Paris, I have not that honor."

"Indeed!" cried she, half incredulously.

"It is quite true, Madame; I have been but a few days here, and have no acquaintance whatever."

They now spoke to each other for a few seconds; and after what seemed strong persuasion, the younger turned away to remove her bonnet.

"We have, then, no right to exact any concession from Monsieur," said the elder lady, "seeing that we preserve our own secret."

I could not but a.s.sent to this doctrine, and had just acknowledged it, when the younger turned abruptly round, uttering a half cry of amazement.

"Margot!" exclaimed I; for it was she. But already had she buried her face between her hands, and refused to look up.

"What means this?" said the elder, sternly, to me. "Do you know this young lady?"

"I did so, once, Madame," said I, sorrowfully.

"Well, sir?" replied she, proudly, and as if desiring me to finish my speech.

"Yes, Madame. I knew her as a child in her grandfather's house. I was scarcely more than a boy myself at the time; but had the interval been four times as great, I could not forget all that I owe to his kindness and to hers."

I could scarcely utter the last words from emotion. The child Margot--a beautiful woman, graceful and fascinating--now stood before me, changed, but still the same; her dark eyes darker and more meaning; her fair brow expanded and more lofty.

"You know my story?" asked she, in a low, soft voice.

"Yes, Margot. And oftentimes in my saddest hours have I sought excitement and relief in the thought of your triumphs--"

"There, child,--there!" exclaimed the elder, enthusiastically, "there is at least one who can prize the glorious ambitions of the scene, and knows how to appreciate the successes of high art. Stand not abashed before him, child; he comes not here as your accuser."

"Is it so indeed?" cried Margot, entreatingly.

"Oh, if you but knew, Margot, how proudly I have often pondered over our hours of the past,--now fancying that in my teachings of those days some germ of that high ambition you have tried to reach may then have been dropped into your heart; now wondering if in your successes some memory of me might have survived. If you but knew this, Margot, you would soon see how this bright moment of our meeting repays all the sorrows of a life long."

"I am in the third act of the drama," said the elder lady, smiling.

"Pray let me into the secret of the piece. Where, when, and how were you first acquainted?"

Margot looked at me to speak; but I returned her glance so entreatingly that, taking her friend's hand between her own, she seated her at her side and began.

While she narrated the story of our first meeting, I had full time to look at her, and see the changes a few years had made. Beautiful as she had been in childhood, far more lovely was she now in the grace of developed beauty. Her art, too, had cultivated expression to its very highest point, yet without exaggerating a trait of her features; the tones of her voice had in them a melody I had never heard before; and I hung on her very utterance as though it were music!

I dare not trust myself to recall more of that scene: already are emotions struggling within me, the conflict of which this poor shattered heart is not equal to. The great trials of life are often easier burdens to memory than some flitting moment of pa.s.sionate existence, some one brief hour of mingled hope and fear.

Margot's friend--it was Mademoiselle Mars herself--felt the liveliest interest in the story of our first meeting, my boyish duel and--why should I not say it?--my boyish love. She took pleasure in hearing of every indication of that genius in infancy which she had seen so splendidly displayed in womanhood, and asked me for traits of Margot's childhood with the greatest eagerness.

Margot--the first excitement over--seemed sad and dispirited; she even showed impatience once or twice as Mademoiselle Mars insisted on hearing some little incident of childhood, and then abruptly said,--

"And you, Monsieur, how has the world treated you since we met?"

"Not so flatteringly; I am not spoiled by Fortune."

"Nor am I," said she, hastily taking up my words.

"No, dearest, that you are not," cried the other. "You are as first I knew you, generous, warm-hearted, and kind."

"I mean," said Margot, "that these successes have not made me vain nor proud; that I know how to esteem them at their true price, and feel, moreover, how in my heart there lives a spirit above all this loud-tongued flattery."

Mademoiselle Mars looked at me while she spoke, and I thought that her eyes conveyed the strangest meaning. There was admiration, indeed, but blended with something of tender pity and compa.s.sion. What would I not have given to have been able to read this glance aright! No time was given me to think on the theme, for Margot now, with a kind of half impetuous curiosity, asked me for my adventures.

"Tell us all, everything," said she, laughingly,--"your successes, your failures, your hopes, your loves, your joys and sorrows. I am eager to hear if Fortune has not dealt more generously by you than me. This splendid preparation here"--and she pointed to the dinner-table--"would seem to say much."

"The story will tell better at table," said I, gayly, and not sorry to relieve the awkwardness of the moment by any new incident; and with this I ordered dinner at once. As course succeeded course of the magnificent repast, I could not help feeling what a singular preface was all this splendor to the confession that was to follow it, and how oddly would it tell that the host of such a feast was without a sou in the world. Our spirits rose as dinner went on. We talked together like old friends who had met yesterday; we discussed pa.s.sing topics--all the news of the day--lightly and amusingly; we jested and laughed, with all the light-hearted gayety of unburdened spirits; nor can I remember anything more brilliant than the flow of wit and pleasantry that went on amongst us.

What strange mysterious link unites our lowest moment of despair with a wild and almost headlong joyousness, making of the darkness of our souls a fitting atmosphere for the lightning play of fancy and the bright coruscations of wit! But an hour back, and never was depression deeper than my own; and now my brain abounded with bright-hued thoughts and pleasant imaginings.