Chapter LIV: An Accusation

The soldiers who were pursuing the robber had passed Miretta; but when the officer in command saw the girl standing there alone, her whole aspect indicating intense excitement and terror, he stopped and said to her:

"Girl, did you see a man pass, running at full speed--a man enveloped in a broad olive-green cloak, with a great hairy cap on his head?"

"Officer," said one of the soldiers, "here is a cap on the ground; isn't it the brigand's?"

"Mordieu, yes! it is, indeed; exactly as it is detailed in the description of him--in that case, girl, the robber must have stopped on this spot.--Yes, there is blood here, too; that means that we have wounded him.--Come, sacrebleu! answer, my beauty! You look frightened to death; is it because the miserable Giovanni attacked you and robbed you too?"

"Giovanni!" faltered Miretta, shaking her head sadly. "Oh! it is not he! Alas! it is not Giovanni now! I was perfectly sure that he had been murdered!"

"What does she say?--what is this fable you are telling us, girl? did you see the robber pass--_yes_ or _no_?"

"Yes, I did see him pass; but he is not Giovanni! He wears his clothes, he stole them, doubtless, but I tore off his false beard, and his cap fell at the same time, and I recognized him."

"You recognized----"

After hesitating a moment, Miretta cried at last:

"Ah! why should I have any pity on the man who killed him whom I loved?--No, it is my duty to unmask the infamous villain--to bring upon him the punishment he deserves!"

"Well, girl, will you answer or not? Whom did you recognize?"

"I recognized, in the man you are pursuing, Comte Léodgard de Marvejols!"

"The Comte de Marvejols!" exclaimed the officer, turning to his soldiers; "one of the greatest nobles at court!--Nonsense! the girl is mad!"

"Yes, yes! she doesn't know what she says."

"The fright has disturbed her reason!"

"Ha! ha! that's a likely story! The famous Giovanni is the Comte de Marvejols!--Let us listen no longer to this girl, but continue our search. Let us follow the marks of blood; attention, you fellows! they may guide us to the place where we shall find our robber. And let us take away this cap and false beard, too."

The soldiers went their way. Thereupon Miretta cast a vague, wandering look about her, then hid her face in her hands and wept bitterly, crying:

"O Giovanni! Giovanni! you were very wicked, I know; but I forgave you; and I am sure that by my entreaties I could have persuaded you to abandon your career of crime! I would have brought you back to worthier sentiments. And by prayer and repentance, perhaps you might have obtained God's forgiveness!--But you have been murdered, before you had time to appease the Divine wrath!--Oh! I will avenge you; yes, I will avenge you!"

Somewhat tranquillized by the tears she had shed, Miretta returned to the Hôtel de Santoval, which she reached just at daybreak. She did not try to sleep, for she knew that it would be useless; but she waited anxiously for the time when her mistress could receive her.

The marchioness rang at last, and Miretta answered the bell.

The instant that her eyes fell on the maid's face, Valentine, struck by her pallor and the sinister expression of her eyes, cried:

"Mon Dieu! what has happened to you, Miretta? I read some terrible disaster on your features! You have seen Giovanni--he is arrested--wounded, perhaps?--Pray answer; one would say that you were afraid to speak."

"In truth, madame, what I have to tell you is so horrible---- But you must know it, none the less--you must know, as he really is, the monster to whom you have given your love."

"What! what do you mean? My love!--I do not understand you, Miretta; I am talking of your Giovanni.--what has Léodgard in common with your love affairs?"

"You shall know, madame. Last night, I went out in the hope of at last meeting him whom I have sought in vain for more than three years!--Despite all that I had heard within a few days of new robberies committed by Giovanni, my heart, still depressed, did not throb with that soothing hope which one feels when one is destined to see one's love again!--Ah! there are presentiments that do not mislead us!--Well! as I was standing at the end of Rue Saint-Paul, I heard cries, followed by shots; then a man passed me, flying for his life. I recognized Giovanni's cap and cloak, and I ran after him, supposing him to be my lover; I called to him, I implored him to answer me, to listen to me; I could not obtain a single word. But the fugitive was wounded, he was losing blood; and as he entered Place Royale he slackened his pace, so that I was able at last to overtake him."

"Well! it was Giovanni----"

"For the first moment or two I still thought so, madame; but, surprised by his persistence in trying to continue his flight without answering me, I examined him closely; he was taller than Giovanni, his head was set differently on his shoulders; in short, my heart had already told me--no, it was not Giovanni! The man tried to escape; I clung to his cloak, and he sought in vain to release himself, to shake me off.--Ah! I was very strong then!--I succeeded in pulling off his false beard and his cap--the moon lighted us perfectly--and in the man who had assumed Giovanni's costume and headgear I recognized Comte Léodgard de Marvejols!"

"Léodgard! Léodgard!" cried Valentine, fastening her eyes upon the girl's, to satisfy herself that she had not gone mad. "Oh! Miretta! what are you saying? Why, you were mistaken--you were misled by an error of your eyesight, by some resemblance perhaps--but that Comte Léodgard should have assumed the disguise of Giovanni--consider, pray, that it is utterly impossible!--With what object would he do it?"

"Why--to do what Giovanni used to do, I presume."

"Oh! Miretta, what you say is shocking! Why, it is utterly devoid of sense, and I blush to think that I have listened to you!"

"I suspected that madame would not choose to believe me; but before long, I trust, the truth will be made known, and madame will be forced to recognize that I am not the dupe of a mere illusion!"

"What! what do you mean? Can it be that you have already had the audacity to spread this hateful falsehood?"

"I have told no falsehood, madame! But when that man, when Comte Léodgard--who recognized me perfectly--had disappeared--and I did not think to look after him, I was so overwhelmed--some soldiers arrived, looking for the robber, whom they believed to be Giovanni; but I undeceived them; I told them who the man was whom they were pursuing and whom they had wounded."

"You accused Léodgard?"

"Once more, madame; I told the truth."

"You are mad, Miretta; for if you reflect an instant, you will understand that you must be mistaken. To make such charges against a man whom I love---- Oh! it is abominable! I ought to drive you from my presence!"

"The soldiers said as you do, madame, that I was mad; but what does it matter to me now what anyone thinks of my words? I know, myself, that I spoke the truth! You bid me reflect, madame! Ah! if I could still doubt what I saw last night, by recalling my memories of the past I should find additional proofs of what I assert.--In heaven's name, madame, allow me to speak; you will still have the right to dismiss me afterward.--I do not know whether you remember a murder that was committed about three years and a half ago--a handsome young man was found in the Fossés-Jaunes, near the Pont-aux-Choux;--the story was told us by that little solicitor's clerk, Bahuchet."

"Yes, I remember very well."

"From that time, madame, I ceased to see Giovanni; it was he, I cannot doubt, who was murdered, and robbed of his weapons and of the costume he wore at night.--Oh! I remember so well now--the description of that young man corresponded exactly with that of Giovanni."

"Assume that it be true--what connection has Léodgard----"

"I beg pardon, madame, but in the servants' quarters the servants of your visitors talk with your own people; and as madame deigned sometimes to talk to me of Comte Léodgard, I paid more attention when others spoke of him; and about that time I often heard it said: 'Oh! Comte Léodgard is an excellent master now! it is not as it used to be when he had not the means to pay his esquire; he must have discovered a gold mine lately, for he has paid all his debts, he has hired a beautiful house in Rue de Bretonvilliers, and he gives superb parties there; in short, it seems that he flings money about with both hands, and he's an excellent master!'--That is what I heard said more than once, madame, about the time when I ceased to see my poor Giovanni!"

Valentine had turned pale, and her brow was covered with a dark cloud; she rose, however, and paced the floor excitedly, muttering from time to time:

"No! no! not if I should hear it a hundred times! Mere conjectures--antechamber gossip, servants' tittle-tattle--what does it all prove? To dare to say that he, Léodgard--so noble and so handsome!--Oh! it is frightful! it is an outrage!"

Then, seized with a sudden idea, she asked abruptly:

"This man who was pursued last night, and whom you claim to have recognized--he was wounded, you say?"

"Yes, madame, and severely wounded, for he lost much blood."

"Where was he wounded?"

"In the shoulder, so far as I could judge--for he put his hand there several times. I think that I divine madame's thought; if it is her wish, I will go to inquire----"

"No, I do not wish you to go out; I will go myself to inquire.--You hear me, Miretta? I forbid you to leave the house before my return."

"I will obey you, madame."

Valentine hastily donned an ample cloak, and a great veil which almost concealed her features; then she betook herself at headlong speed, taking care to avoid the most frequented streets, to Rue de Bretonvilliers, inquired for Léodgard's hotel, and knocked at the gate.

"Is Monsieur le Comte de Marvejols within?"

"No, madame," replied the concierge, who was so impressed by the beauty and the noble air of the lady who questioned him, that he accompanied his reply with a low reverence.

"What! has monsieur le comte gone out so early?" asked Valentine, with a searching glance into the courtyard.

"I have not seen monsieur le comte since last evening, madame; when he goes out, I do not always know it!"

"In that case, how can you be certain that he is not within?"

"Because, madame, there has already been someone here to speak with monseigneur this morning."

"Already! Who, pray?"

"Officers--king's troops! I am not quite sure who they were. However, they were evidently very anxious to see monsieur le comte, for they came in and searched all the wings,--those gentry are very unceremonious,--and when they went away they said: 'He doesn't seem to have slept at home.'"

The marchioness listened to these details with the most intense agitation; then she thanked the concierge and returned swiftly to her own house, unable as yet to believe what Miretta had told her, but none the less a prey to the most acute suffering.

Miretta awaited her mistress in her apartment, and questioned her with her eyes. Valentine threw herself into a chair without uttering a word; but the pallor of her cheeks and the distortion of her features betrayed her suffering; and Miretta, deeply moved by her grief, dared not ask her a question. The two women had been in this position for some time when the Marquis de Santoval entered the room.

Monsieur de Santoval's face wore a more amiable expression than usual; he was almost laughing as he entered his wife's apartment.

"Palsambleu! madame la marquise," he cried, "I must tell you some strange news--a report that is in circulation this morning concerning our dear friend Comte Léodgard de Marvejols. I thought it would amuse you, and that is why I have come to tell you about it."

"What is it, pray, monsieur le marquis?"

"Oh! I must begin by telling you that it is utterly absurd, and that I do not believe a word of it. However, Birague, who has just told me the story, acted almost as if he believed it."

"I am waiting for you to explain yourself, monsieur; but perhaps Miretta's presence embarrasses you?"

"No, she may remain. Indeed, I am confident that your maid will soon hear this ghastly story below stairs; it will certainly make the circuit of the city, and some action will be taken.--Fancy, madame, that Birague was at the office of the lieutenant of police this morning, when he received his reports of the night as usual. One of them was so extraordinary that the lieutenant could not repress an exclamation of surprise as he read it, and he said to Birague:

"'You can never guess what happened last night! My patrols gave chase to Giovanni, who had just attacked someone, and as he ran away they fired at him. Some of the watch pursued him, and at the entrance to Place Royale, where they had lost track of him, they fell in with a young woman, all alone, who seemed terribly frightened. They asked her if she had seen the man they were pursuing; she answered in the affirmative. And, in fact, they picked up at her feet the frightful hairy cap that Giovanni usually wears, and a false beard with which he conceals a large part of his face.'"

"But, monsieur, these details----"

"Pardon, madame; all these details, you will see, are of great importance to the story. The lieutenant of police continued: 'This girl then answered that she had seen the robber, but she added: "You are mistaken; the man you are pursuing is not Giovanni; he is----"' Ah! this is what will surprise you, madame.--'She cried: "The man who is running away, the man who wore this cap and this false beard, is Comte Léodgard de Marvejols!"'--Well! what do you say to that, madame?"

"Really, monsieur, it seems to me so absurd, that I am surprised that anyone can have repeated it!"

"I agree with you. Although I am an enemy of the count, I am capable of doing justice to his valor, his nobility of character--in a word, he belongs to one of the most ancient families of France, whose honor is stainless. When the lieutenant had finished, Birague could not help laughing. Whereupon the official said to him: 'I have ordered the sergeant who was in command of the watch to be sent here. I am going to question him. Remain, if you are interested.' Birague asked nothing better; he remained, and the sergeant of the watch soon appeared. He told a story which corresponded exactly with the report, but added this: 'When we picked up the cap and false beard, we saw blood on the ground, which proved that we had wounded our man.'--'And what did you do then?' asked the lieutenant.--'Monseigneur, as the moon was shining, we followed the blood along Place Royale to a point where it suddenly stopped, as if the wounded man had gone no farther.'--'And you observed that spot?'--'Yes, monseigneur; it was directly in front of the gate of the Hôtel de Marvejols.'--As you may imagine, madame, that fact seemed decidedly strange to the lieutenant as well as to Birague.--'And the girl--what became of her?' monseigneur asked the sergeant, who admitted that he had paid no further attention to her.--'You are a fool!' said the lieutenant; 'you should have arrested the girl and taken her to the guardhouse, and then have brought her before me. When a person presumes to make so serious a charge against one of the first noblemen of the court, she should not be allowed to disappear. From this girl we could ascertain how much truth there is in this story; we could learn whether you had an interview with a madwoman, or with a person who had some reason to hate the count. You must find the girl, sergeant, do you hear? You must find her.'--For my part, I consider that the lieutenant of police was perfectly right, and that the arrest of this girl might lead to some very curious revelations.--What do you think, marchioness?"

For several moments past, Valentine had turned all her attention to Miretta; she kept her eyes fastened upon her with a glance of supplication, as if the girl's action were a matter of life or death to her. But Miretta, standing like a statue at the end of the room, kept her eyes fixed on the floor; and there was nothing to betray what was taking place in her mind.

"Well, madame, you do not answer," continued Monsieur de Santoval.

"Oh! I beg pardon, monsieur! The fact is that this story is so strange, so absurd---- Really, I do not understand how so much importance can be attached to it!"

"Pardon me, madame, but it is a curious affair.--While I place no faith in the words of this girl, I believe that there is some mystery beneath it all. But the riddle will be solved; this unknown maiden will be found, let us hope!--By the way, I have not told you all: the lieutenant of police, after dismissing the sergeant, ordered some of his subordinates to go to Rue de Bretonvilliers, to the little house which the count has occupied again since he has recovered from a--a certain wound, and to inquire if any accident had happened to his lordship."

"Well--what did they learn there?"

"Comte Léodgard was absent, and, according to all appearance, had not passed the night there."

"And they consider that very remarkable, too, I suppose; although I fancy that it is in accordance with the young gentleman's habit."

"I have told you the whole story, marchioness; I thought that it would amuse you, but I see that I was mistaken."

"Pardon me, monsieur, I find it very amusing--like everything that is utterly devoid of sense! And I shall be obliged to you if you will keep me informed if you learn anything more concerning this affair."

"If that is so, madame, I will not fail.--Ah! the most important thing is to find that girl!"

The Marquis de Santoval had no sooner left his wife's apartment, than she ran to Miretta, clasped her hands, and almost knelt to her, saying, in a trembling voice and with tears in her eyes:

"Miretta! I implore you! do not say that it was you! do not make yourself known! My life depends on your silence!--You will not say that it was you? promise me!"

"I will wait, madame," the girl replied, with a sombre expression; "to obey you, I will wait; but Giovanni must be avenged!"