Chapter III: A Conference

We will leave the two ladies for a time and give our attention to M. de Luceval. This gentleman, as we have just learned through his message to his wife, did not intend to dine at home that day.

The reason was this:

He had, as we know, left Madame de Luceval in a towering rage. He was also firmly resolved to insist upon his rights, and to force her to submit to his will, as well as to his mania for travelling.

He had gone only a few steps from his house before he was accosted by a rather distinguished looking man about forty-five years of age, whose worn and haggard features bore the lines and the impress of a premature old age. As M. de Luceval approached, this gentleman's stern, arrogant face took on an expression of formal courtesy, and, bowing with great politeness, he inquired:

"Is it to M. de Luceval that I have the honour of speaking?"

"Yes, monsieur."

"I was on my way to your house to tender you both my apologies and my thanks."

"Before accepting either, may I not at least know, monsieur--"

"Who I am? Pardon me, monsieur, for not having told you sooner. I am M. d'Infreville, so my name is not unknown to you, I think."

"We have several mutual friends, I think," replied M. de Luceval, "and I congratulate myself upon my good fortune in meeting you personally, monsieur. But we are only a short distance from my house, and if you will return with me--"

"I could not think of giving you that trouble, monsieur. Besides, to tell the truth, I should be almost afraid to meet Madame de Luceval."

"And why, monsieur?"

"The fact is, I have wronged madame so deeply, monsieur, that I must beg you to make my excuses to her before I have the honour to be presented to her."

"Pardon me," said Florence's husband, more and more mystified, "but I really do not understand--"

"I will explain more clearly, monsieur. But we are almost at the Champs Elysees. If agreeable to you, suppose we have a little chat together as we walk along."

"Certainly, if you prefer that."

And M. de Luceval, who manifested the same energy in his walk that he did in everything else, began to stride along, accompanied, or rather followed, by M. d'Infreville, who found it extremely difficult to keep up with his more agile companion. Nevertheless, continuing the conversation, he said, in a rather panting fashion:

"Just now, monsieur, when I had the honour to tell you my name, and to add that it was probably not unknown to you, you replied that we had mutual friends, and I--But pardon me, I have a favour to ask of you, monsieur," said M. d'Infreville, entirely out of breath now.

"What is it, monsieur?"

"I must ask you to walk a little more slowly. My lungs are not very strong, and I get out of breath very quickly, as you see."

"On the contrary, monsieur, it is I who should beg you to excuse me for walking so fast. It is a bad habit of which I find it very difficult to break myself; besides, if you prefer it, we can sit down. Here are some chairs."

"I accept the proposition with pleasure, monsieur," said M. d'Infreville, sinking into a chair, "with very great pleasure."

The two gentlemen having established themselves comfortably, M. d'Infreville remarked:

"Permit me to say, monsieur, that you must also have heard of me through some other intermediary than mutual friends."

"To what intermediary do you refer, monsieur?"

"To Madame de Luceval."

"My wife?"

"Certainly, monsieur, for though I have not yet had the honour of an introduction to her,--as I remarked a few minutes ago,--my wife is so intimate with your wife that you and I cannot be strangers to each other. The friendship of the ladies began at the convent, and still continues, as they see each other almost daily, and--"

"Pardon me, monsieur, but I think there must be some mistake--"

"Some mistake?"

"Or rather, some misunderstanding in regard to names."

"And why, monsieur?"

"I seldom leave Madame de Luceval. She receives very few people, and I have never had the pleasure of seeing Madame d'Infreville in my house."

It seemed as if Valentine's husband could not believe his own ears, for, turning to his companion, he exclaimed, hoarsely:

"Do you mean to say, monsieur--?"

"That I have never had the honour of seeing Madame d'Infreville in my house."

"But that is impossible, monsieur. My wife is with your wife almost constantly."

"But I repeat that I have never seen Madame d'Infreville in my house, monsieur."

"Never?" exclaimed Valentine's husband, so completely stupefied that M. de Luceval gazed at him in astonishment, and said:

"So, as I remarked a short time ago, there must be some mistake in regard to the name, as you tell me that your wife visits my wife every day."

M. d'Infreville's face had become livid. Big drops of sweat stood out upon his forehead, and a bitter smile contracted his bluish lips, but controlling himself,--for he was resolved to act the part of a gentleman in the presence of this stranger,--he responded in a sardonic tone:

"Fortunately, all this is between husbands, my dear sir; and we ought to feel a little compassion for each other, for, after all, each has his turn at it, as one never knows what may happen."

"What do you mean, monsieur?"

"Ah, my vague distrust was only too well founded," murmured M. d'Infreville, in a sort of sullen rage. "Why did I not discover the truth sooner? Oh, these women, these miserable women!"

"Once more, may I beg you to explain, monsieur."

"You are an honourable man, monsieur," replied M. d'Infreville, in an almost solemn tone, "and I trust to your loyalty, sure that you will not refuse to aid me in my efforts to ferret out and punish an infamous crime, for now I understand everything. Oh, these women, these women!"

M. de Luceval, fearing his companion's exclamations would attract the attention of several persons who were sitting a little distance from them, was endeavouring to calm him, when it so chanced that he caught sight of the footman Florence had sent out to mail her letter.

Seeing this man sauntering along with a letter which had, doubtless, been written by Florence immediately after the lively altercation with her husband, M. de Luceval, yielding to an almost irresistible impulse, called the servant to him, and asked:

"Where are you going?"

"I am going to buy some violets for madame la marquise, and post this letter," he replied, showing the missive to his master as he spoke.

That gentleman took it, and could not repress a movement of surprise as his eye fell upon the address, then, recovering himself, he dismissed the servant by a gesture, saying at the same time:

"You can go. I will take charge of the letter."

The footman having taken his departure, M. de Luceval turned to Valentine's husband, and remarked:

"A strange presentiment, but one which did not deceive me, I find, impelled me to secure this letter. It proves to be one which my wife has written to Madame d'Infreville."

"Why, in that case, my wife and your wife must at least keep up a correspondence," exclaimed Valentine's husband, more hopefully.

"True, but I discover this fact to-day for the first time, monsieur."

"Monsieur, I implore you, I adjure you, to open this letter. It is addressed to my wife. I will assume the whole responsibility."

"Here is the letter; read it, monsieur," responded M. de Luceval, quite as eager to know the contents of the missive as M. d'Infreville.

The latter gentleman, after hastily perusing the note, exclaimed:

"Read it, monsieur. It is surely enough to drive one mad, for in this letter your wife reminds my wife of the delightful day they spent together yesterday, as well as last Wednesday, and begs her to come again on Sunday."

"And I assure you, upon my word of honour, monsieur," responded M. de Luceval, after having perused the note in his turn, "that yesterday my wife did not get up until noon, that about three o'clock, I, with no little difficulty, succeeded in persuading her to take a drive with me. We returned a short time before dinner, and after dinner two friends of ours spent the evening with us. As regards Wednesday, I remember perfectly that I was in and out of my wife's room a number of times, and I again assure you, upon my word of honour, that Madame d'Infreville did not spend the day at our house."

"Then, how do you explain this letter, monsieur?"

"I do not explain it, monsieur. I merely confine myself to a plain statement of the facts of the case. I am as much interested in clearing up this mystery as you can possibly be."

"Oh, I will have my revenge!" exclaimed M. d'Infreville, his long repressed rage bursting forth at last. "I can doubt no longer now. The discovery that my wife has been absenting herself from home for days at a time naturally aroused my suspicions. I inquired the cause of these frequent and prolonged absences; she replied that she often went to spend the day with a former schoolmate, named Madame de Luceval. The name was so widely known and respected, the excuse so plausible, my wife's manner so sincere, that I, like a fool, believed her. Now, I know that it was an instinctive distrust that impelled me to seek you out. You see what I have discovered. Oh, the infamous wretch!"

"Be calm, I beg of you," entreated M. de Luceval, "your excited manner is attracting attention. Let us take a cab, and drive to my house at once, monsieur, for this mystery must be cleared up. I shudder to think that my wife, impelled by a desire to protect her friend, has consented to become an accomplice in a shameful deception. Come, monsieur, come. I count upon you, and you, in turn, can count upon me. It is the duty of all honest men to aid and sustain each other under such distressing circumstances. Justice must be done, and the guilty must be punished."

"Yes, yes. I will have my revenge! You may be sure I will have my revenge!"

He was trembling with rage, and his excitement increased his weakness to such an extent that he was obliged to lean heavily upon his companion's supporting arm to reach the carriage.

It was about an hour after this chance meeting of the two gentlemen that Florence received the note from her husband announcing that he would not dine at home that day.

So while this matrimonial storm is becoming more and more threatening, we will return to the two ladies who were left alone together after the departure of the maid who had brought M. de Luceval's note.