Chapter X: Despair

M. de Maillefort awaited Herminie's return in a state of deep perplexity, wondering in vain what strange combination of circumstances had brought these two young girls together. The marquis had desired this _rapprochement_ greatly, as we shall soon discover, but the hunchback had not yet devised any way to bring it about, so Ernestine's presence in Herminie's home, the secrecy with which she must have gone there, the secrecy, too, which Mlle. de Beaumesnil, by an imploring gesture, had begged him to preserve, all combined to excite his curiosity as well as his anxiety to the highest pitch.

So, on the return of Herminie, who apologised for having absented herself so long, the marquis said, with the most careless air imaginable:

"I shall be very sorry if you do not always treat me with that perfect freedom permissible between devoted friends, my dear child, and nothing could be more natural, I am sure, than a desire to exchange a few parting words with one of your young acquaintances, for this young lady is, I suppose--"

"One of my friends, monsieur, or rather my dearest friend."

"Ah, indeed," answered the marquis, smiling. "It must be a friendship of long standing, then, I suppose?"

"Very recent, on the contrary, monsieur. In fact, this friendship, though so true and tried, was conceived very suddenly."

"I have sufficient confidence in your powers of discernment and your nobility of heart to feel sure that you have chosen your friend wisely, my dear child."

"A single incident, which occurred scarcely an hour ago, monsieur, will give convincing proof of my friend's courage and nobility of soul. At the risk of her own life,--for she escaped serious injury only by a hair's breadth,--she rescued an aged man from certain death."

And Herminie, proud of her friend, and anxious to see her appreciated as she deserved to be, proceeded to describe Ernestine's courageous rescue of Commander Bernard.

The emotion of the marquis on hearing this unexpected revelation, which revealed Mlle. de Beaumesnil in a new and most attractive light, can be imagined.

"She certainly displayed wonderful courage and generosity of heart!" he cried. Then he added: "I was sure of it! You could not choose your friends other than judiciously, my dear child. But who is this brave young girl?"

"An orphan like myself, monsieur, who supports herself by her own exertions. She is an embroiderer."

"Ah, an embroiderer! But as she, too, is an orphan, she lives alone, I suppose?"

"No, monsieur, she lives with a relative, who took her, last Sunday evening, to a small entertainment, where I met her for the first tame."

The marquis knit his brows. For an instant he was almost tempted to believe that one of the Rochaigues was implicated in this mystery, but his implicit faith in Herminie caused him to reject that idea, though he wondered how Mlle. de Beaumesnil had managed to absent herself from her guardian's house for an entire evening, without the knowledge of the baron or his family. He asked himself, too, with no less astonishment, how Ernestine had managed to secure several hours of entire freedom that very morning, but fearing he would arouse Herminie's suspicions by questioning her further, he remarked:

"It is pleasant for me to know that you have a friend so worthy of you, and it seems to me," added the hunchback, "that she could not have come more opportunely."

"And why, monsieur?"

"You know you have given me the privilege of being perfectly frank with you."

"Certainly, monsieur."

"Very well, then, it seems to me that you are not in your accustomed good spirits. You look pale, and it is very evident that you have been weeping, my poor child."

"I assure you, monsieur--"

"And all this is the more noticeable because you seemed so perfectly happy the last two or three times I saw you. Yes, contentment could be read on every feature; it even imparted to your beauty such a radiance and expansiveness that--as you may perhaps remember, from the rarity of the thing--I complimented you upon your radiant beauty. Think of it! I, who am the very poorest flatterer that ever lived!" added the hunchback, probably in the hope of bringing a smile to Herminie's lips.

But the girl, unable to conquer her sadness, replied:

"The change in my appearance which you speak of is probably due to the fright that Ernestine's narrow escape caused me, monsieur."

The marquis, sure now that Herminie was suffering from some grief that she wished to conceal, insisted no further, but said:

"It is as you say, doubtless, but the danger is over now, my dear child, so I may as well tell you that my visit this morning is important, very important. You know that I have made it a point of honour not to say anything to you of late in relation to the grave matter that first brought me here."

"Yes, monsieur, and I am grateful to you for not having again referred to a subject that is so painful to me."

"I am compelled to speak again, if not of Madame de Beaumesnil, at least of her daughter," said the marquis, casting a keen, searching look at Herminie, in order to discover--though he was almost certain to the contrary--if the young girl knew that her new friend was Mlle. de Beaumesnil; but he did not feel the shadow of a doubt of Herminie's ignorance on the subject when she promptly replied, without the slightest embarrassment:

"You say you must speak of Madame de Beaumesnil's daughter, monsieur?"

"Yes, my dear child. I have made no attempt to conceal my devoted friendship for Madame de Beaumesnil, nor her dying requests in relation to the young orphan whom I have not yet discovered, in spite of the most persistent efforts. I told you, too, of the no less urgent request of the countess concerning her daughter, Ernestine. For divers reasons which, believe me, do not affect you in the least, I am very desirous, solely on Mlle. de Beaumesnil's account, understand, that you two young girls should become acquainted."

"But how could that be brought about, monsieur?" asked Herminie, eagerly, thinking what happiness it would give her to know her sister.

"In the easiest way imaginable--a way that was even suggested to you, I believe, when you so nobly returned that five hundred franc note to Madame de la Rochaigue."

"Yes, monsieur, Madame de la Rochaigue did give me some reason to hope that I might be employed to give Mlle. de Beaumesnil music lessons."

"Well, my dear child, that has been arranged."

"Really, monsieur?"

"Yes, I had a talk with the baroness last evening, and either to-day or to-morrow she is going to mention the matter to Mlle. de Beaumesnil. I do not doubt that she will accept the proposition. As for you, my dear child, I do not apprehend any refusal on your part."

"Far from it, monsieur."

"Besides, what I ask for this young girl, I ask in the name of the mother to whom you were so devotedly attached," said the marquis, with deep emotion.

"You can not doubt the interest I shall always feel in Mlle. de Beaumesnil, monsieur, but the relations between, us will, of course, be confined to our lessons."

"Not by any means."

"But, monsieur!"

"You must understand, my dear child, that I should not have taken all this trouble to bring about an acquaintance between Mlle. de Beaumesnil and yourself, if it was to be confined to the lessons given and received."

"But, monsieur--"

"There are important interests at stake, interests which I feel can be safely intrusted to your hands."

"Explain, monsieur, I beg of you."

"I will do that after you have seen your new scholar," replied the marquis, thinking what a delightful surprise it would be to Herminie when she recognised Mlle. de Beaumesnil in the poor embroideress, her best friend.

"In any case, you may be sure that I shall consider it a sacred duty to fulfil your instructions, monsieur, and that I shall hold myself in readiness to go to Mlle. de Beaumesnil as soon as I am sent for."

"I will introduce you to her, myself."

"So much the better, monsieur."

"And if agreeable to you, next Saturday at this hour, I will come for you."

"I shall expect you monsieur, and I thank you very much for sparing me the embarrassment of presenting myself alone."

"And now a word of advice in Mlle. de Beaumesnil's interest, my dear child. No one knows, and no one must know that her poor mother summoned me to her in her last hours. My deep affection for the countess must also remain a secret. You will maintain a profound silence on the subject in case either M. or Madame de la Rochaigue should ever speak of me."

"I shall comply with your wishes, monsieur."

"And I will come on Saturday, that is understood," said the hunchback, rising. "It will give me great pleasure to introduce you to Mlle. de Beaumesnil, and I feel sure that you yourself will find a pleasure you do not anticipate in this meeting."

"I hope so, monsieur," replied Herminie, rather absently, for, seeing that the marquis was about to go, she did not know how to broach the subject that had been uppermost in her mind ever since the hunchback's arrival.

At last, endeavouring to appear perfectly calm, she said:

"Before you go, monsieur, will you have the goodness to give me a little information if it be in your power to do it?"

"Speak, my dear child," said M. de Maillefort, reseating himself.

"M. le marquis, in the social world to which you belong, have you ever chanced to meet Madame la Duchesse de Senneterre?"

"I was one of her deceased husband's most intimate friends, and I am extremely fond of the present Duc de Senneterre, one of the best, most whole-souled young men I know. I had fresh proofs of his nobility of character only yesterday," added the hunchback, with evident emotion.

A slight flush suffused Herminie's face on hearing Gerald thus praised by a man she esteemed as highly as M. de Maillefort.

That gentleman, evidently much surprised, continued:

"But what information do you desire in relation to Madame de Senneterre, my dear child? Has any one proposed that you should give her daughters lessons?"

Hastily catching at these words which helped her out of a great difficulty by furnishing her with a pretext for her inquiries, Herminie, in spite of her natural abhorrence of anything like deception, replied:

"Yes, monsieur, some one told me that I might possibly secure pupils in that distinguished family, but before making any attempt in that direction, I was anxious to know if I could expect from Madame de Senneterre the consideration my rather too sensitive nature exacts. In short, monsieur, I am anxious to know whether Madame de Senneterre possesses a kindly nature or whether I am not likely to find in her that haughtiness which sometimes characterises persons of such an exalted position as hers."

"I understand you perfectly, and I am very glad you applied to me, for knowing you as I know you, dear, proud child that you are, I say very plainly, neither seek nor accept any pupils in that family. The Mlles. de Senneterre are lovely girls--they have their brother's disposition--but the duchess--!"

"Well, monsieur?" asked poor Herminie.

"Ah, my dear child, the duchess is more deeply in love with her title than any other woman I ever saw--which is very strange, as she is really extremely well born, while this ridiculous and absurd pride of rank is generally confined to _parvenus_. In short, my dear child, I would much rather see you brought in contact with twenty M. Bouffards than with this insufferably arrogant woman. The Bouffards are so coarse and ignorant that their rudeness amuses rather than wounds, but in the Duchesse de Senneterre you will find the most polite insolence, or rather the most insolent politeness, imaginable, so I am sure that you, my dear child, who have such a high respect for yourself, could not remain in Madame de Senneterre's company ten minutes without being wounded to the quick, and resolving that you would never set foot in her house again. That being the case, what is the use of entering it?"

"I thank you, monsieur," replied Herminie, almost crushed by this revelation which destroyed her last hope,--a hope she had preserved in spite of herself, that perhaps Madame de Senneterre, touched by her son's love, would consent to make the concession that Herminie's pride demanded.

"No, no, my dear child," continued the marquis, "Gerald de Senneterre's filial tenderness must blind him completely for him not to lose all patience with his mother's absurd arrogance, and for him not to see that she is as hard-hearted as she is narrow-minded. In short, her selfishness is only exceeded by her cupidity. I have every reason to know this, so I am delighted to defraud her of a victim by enlightening you in regard to her. And now good-bye. Let me be of service to you in any matter, however small, as often as you can. It will serve to content me while waiting for something better. And now I will again bid you good-bye until Saturday."

"Until Saturday, monsieur."

And M. de Maillefort departed, leaving Herminie alone with her immeasurable despair.