Chapter XX: Hymeneal Plans

On rising, on the day following the fête, Alfred went to Edouard’s apartment; not finding him there, or in the château, or in the gardens, Alfred felt assured, that disregarding their agreement, Edouard had gone without him to see Isaure. He was furious, he cursed his sleep, he was on the point of mounting and riding into the mountains after him. But he reflected that the morning was already far advanced and that Edouard, who had started some time before, was doubtless on his way back. He decided to wait in order that he might have an explanation with him the sooner.

While Alfred impatiently paced the gallery which looked over the country, Robineau, who had just risen, was devoting special care to his toilet. At last he came forth with a self-satisfied air, and said to the young baron, smiling blandly:

"Good-morning, my dear Alfred!"

"Good-morning!" replied the other shortly, continuing to stride back and forth.

"Parbleu! I am very glad to find you this morning, which rarely happens; for ordinarily you and the poet are up before Phœbus. Ha! ha! Being with that devil of a Férulus, I am getting into the habit of speaking in metaphors altogether.--But let us come to what I want to say to you. You are not listening to me, Alfred!"

"Yes, yes, I am listening to you; speak on."

"Well, my friend, I will tell you then that during the day yesterday, I--By the way, what did you think of yesterday’s affair? You haven’t said anything to me about my fête. It was rather neat, eh?"

"Yes, with the exception of Monsieur Férulus’s poetry, the gladiators’ cheese, and Mademoiselle Cheval’s posteriors, it was very good."

"Oh! what can you expect? Such unforeseen little accidents always happen. Indeed, Monsieur Berlingue assured me that those things made the party more piquant.--However, my dear Alfred, during the day I definitely settled upon my choice."

"Your choice for what?"

"What! for what? Why, for my wife, nothing else. I absolutely must marry! When a man occupies a certain position, when he has a château--and then, my heart has spoken; oh, yes! it has spoken in a most extraordinary fashion! I have never been in love like this; it is true that no such fascinating object was ever before within my reach. I will bet that you have guessed, Alfred! You must have noticed our understanding. For my part, I confess that I could not restrain myself.--I say, Alfred, what are you looking at out of the window?"

"I am listening to you, I hear what you say; go ahead."

"Well, my dear friend, it is Mademoiselle Cornélie de la Pincerie who has won my heart; it is she who will be my wife, if, as I hope, monsieur le marquis, her father, does not interpose any obstacle to our union."

Alfred left the window, and walked toward Robineau, saying to him:

"It is Mademoiselle Cornélie, that tall young woman with whom you opened the ball, whom you propose to marry?"

"Just so, my friend. She is charming, isn’t she?"

"Yes, she isn’t bad-looking!"

"And how she dances, eh?"

"Yes, but one doesn’t marry to dance all the time. Listen, Robineau----"

"I have told you that I would not answer to that name."

"Well, Jules la Roche-Noire, or whatever you choose,--listen to me, I beg you. You are a good fellow, although wealth has rather turned your head, and although you are trying to play the grand seigneur. We were at school together, and honestly I should be sorry to see you wretchedly unhappy some day."

"What a devil of a preamble!"

"You are spending more than your income, you are running through your inheritance too fast; however, since you are enjoying yourself, I will overlook that; but my friend, take my advice, do not marry Mademoiselle Cornélie; for I am very sure that, if you do, you will not enjoy yourself long."

Robineau pressed his lips together with an air of vexation, and replied:

"My dear Alfred, so many phrases were not necessary to come to that--that I should not marry Mademoiselle de la Pincerie. I admit that I thought that you were going, on the contrary, to compliment me upon my taste. And why should I not marry her?"

"Because that woman is not at all suited to you."

"The fact that I adore her proves, on the contrary, that she is suited to me."

"Pshaw! you imagine that! You adored Fifine, too, and you left her without regret!"

"Fifine! Why in the deuce do you mention her! My friend, I entreat you, do not utter that name again. If the La Pincerie family should find out--I know of course that a young man is at liberty to amuse himself, but no matter! The family is so rigid in the matter of morals that it might prejudice me."

"You love Mademoiselle Cornélie, I doubt not; but she does not love you; she will marry you in order to have a husband, that’s all."

"She does not love me!" cried Robineau. "Ah! upon my word, my dear Alfred, I thought that you had more tact and discernment than that. Mademoiselle de la Pincerie does not love me! No, she adores me, that’s all; and thank heaven! yesterday I had proofs of that, the most amiable _abandon_, hand-clasps, sighs, nervous thrills! The fact is, she is mad over me."

Alfred turned away with a shrug, then rejoined:

"All right, she adores you, I don’t deny it; I may have been mistaken. But that woman is as old as you are; she is fully twenty-eight."

"No, no! she is not twenty-eight, she was twenty-seven and a half last month."

"And her fortune; that is important. How much of a dowry has she?"

"Dowry--why she has a thousand things. First, magnificent hopes; then, what her father may obtain from the government for his plans for rural economy, which he is to send immediately to the minister; also, all that her Uncle Mignon will leave her, and he is certain to be appointed sub-prefect this year or next year--he cannot miss it; and lastly, a superb and very lucrative office which the marquis has the promise of for his son-in-law!"

"And for fifty years he has been trying unsuccessfully to obtain a place for his brother."

"That doesn’t prove anything. Besides, my friend, I don’t haggle over a dowry like a tradesman on Rue Saint Denis. Bargain for a wife! Fie, fie! And a wife like Mademoiselle de la Pincerie! It seems to me that the honor of entering such a family should count for something."

Alfred took Robineau’s hand and said to him with the utmost coolness:

"My friend, I tell you again, if you make this marriage, you will make a fool of yourself."

Robineau glared at his friend with eyes like an angry turkey-cock’s, and dropped his hand, saying:

"My friend, as to making a fool of myself, I don’t need your advice. I don’t make love to goatherds, but I will marry whomever I please."

"Marry the devil, if you choose!" said Alfred, abruptly leaving the gallery.

"I will not marry the devil, but I will marry Mademoiselle Cornélie," said Robineau, striding with a determined air toward the garden.--"Ah! so she doesn’t love me! I shall make a fool of myself!" he said to himself as he hurried toward the stable. "I see how it is.--Parbleu! it is easy to guess: Monsieur Alfred would like to steal Mademoiselle de la Pincerie away from me, and that is why he tries to dissuade me from this marriage. But the trick is too clumsy; to deprive him of all hope, I will hasten to the marquis’s house, and I will not leave him until he has promised me his daughter’s hand."

Robineau called the coachman and the groom, and ordered the horse to be harnessed to the char-à-bancs. Monsieur Férulus came at that moment to inquire for Monsieur de la Roche-Noire’s health, and to inform him that breakfast was served. Robineau reflected that he had time for breakfast before going to ask for Mademoiselle Cornélie’s hand. So he accompanied his librarian to the dining-room, and while breakfasting, said to him:

"Monsieur Férulus, I am going to be married very soon."

Monsieur Férulus made a wry face, because the life he was leading at the château was very agreeable to him, and he instantly foresaw that the arrival of a mistress would lessen the importance of his duties, that he would no longer be allowed to order the dinner and to decide how long they should remain at table. However, as Robineau had said it with a very determined air and as it was easy to see in his eyes that he expected congratulations, Monsieur Férulus tried to turn his grimace into a smile, and replied in a honeyed tone:

"Monseigneur, marriage is an institution which dates back to the earliest period of antiquity. People have always married, even before the days of notaries and municipal officers; to marry is to follow the decrees of Providence, and it was because they refused to marry that the people of Sodom were burned. Marry, therefore, monseigneur; great men have always had much inclination for marriage; Hercules, in a single night, married forty-nine daughters of Thespius, King of Bœotia; and if we are to believe Dion Cassius, Cæsar put forth a decree which declared him the husband of all the women in Rome, when he chose to avail himself of it. Ah! what fellows Cæsar and Hercules were! But now a man can marry but one wife at once; and indeed, I think that’s enough.--May I know, monsieur, who the party is upon whom your eyes have fallen?"

"It is the younger daughter of Monsieur le Marquis de la Pincerie,--a tall, well-made young lady, named Cornélie, who sat beside me at table."

"Ah, yes! I know, monseigneur, I know. An antique face, a Greek profile, the figure of an Antigone, academic attitudes, and a way of expressing herself at once refined and grammatical! I congratulate you, monseigneur; she was the loveliest person at the fête!"

"Dear Monsieur Férulus!" said Robineau, pressing his librarian’s hand affectionately. "Good! he knows what he is talking about, and he approves my choice because passion does not blind him, and he says what he thinks."

"Approve your choice, monseigneur! I will do more, I will sing of it in iambics, hexameters and pentameters."

"Very well, my dear Férulus; I am going at once to Monsieur le Marquis de la Pincerie; you can understand that I do not propose to neglect such a matter. Some other man might take Mademoiselle Cornélie away from me, and I should never console myself. The horse is in the carriage, and I am going to Saint-Amand; I hope to induce the family to come to the château for several days before the wedding."

"Go, monseigneur," said Monsieur Férulus, escorting Robineau to the char-à-bancs; and, as he watched him drive away, he added: "Go in search of a wife, since you are in such a hurry to be married. It seems to me, however, that the château was kept up on a very good footing, and that we had under our hands all that we needed. But no matter, I must seem to be enchanted over this union, and I must write poetry for the whole La Pincerie family."

Alfred had, on leaving Robineau, gone out upon the lawn, where he paced back and forth excitedly, waiting for Edouard. At last he appeared, and Alfred walked away from the château to meet him. Edouard had dropped the reins upon his horse’s neck. Engrossed by thoughts of Isaure, of his love, and of that White House, which already offered an obstacle to his plans of happiness, he did not look about him, and did not think that he was so near the château. Suddenly a voice called to him:

"Stop; dismount; I want to speak to you."

Edouard started at the sound of that voice, which was familiar to him, but which seemed at that moment changed by anger. He raised his eyes, and saw Alfred standing before him pale and motionless, although his agitation was manifest in his features. Edouard dismounted and left his horse free, and the animal returned of its own accord to the château. The young men were at the entrance to a road lined with trees; Alfred left it, and motioned to Edouard to follow him; he halted in a more isolated spot. Edouard said nothing, but waited for his companion to begin an interview, the probable subject of which he divined.

"You have seen Isaure?" said Alfred at last.

"Yes, I have just left her."

"And is this the way you keep your promise? Have you forgotten our agreement? I, too, have longed a hundred times to go into the mountains without you,--to be alone with that girl. But I have restrained that longing, for I was afraid of breaking my promise. And you----"

"Alfred, I was wrong, I admit it. But my love for Isaure is so violent that I absolutely could not resist."

"Say rather that, being less honorable than I, you laughed at my good faith!"

"Alfred, listen to me, I beg; and do not think that it is a simple caprice which I feel for Isaure."

"But how do you know that I do not love her as much as you do? To win her love, you employ sighs and melancholy; I go about it more frankly; I declare myself, I do not conceal my love."

"But after all, Alfred, that girl cannot love us both; and suppose--suppose it were not you whom she preferred?"

"I understand you," retorted Alfred angrily; "I see that this morning, being alone with her, you made the best of your time; that you neglected nothing to carry the day over me. And do you think that, upon the strength of this statement, I propose to withdraw and to abandon your conquest to you? But you will permit me to entertain some slight doubt of your triumph and to try to be as fortunate as you. I, too, will see Isaure alone; perhaps then that haughty beauty will deign to be less stern to me."

"I do not know what your plans are, monsieur; but since you force me to tell you, why, yes, Isaure does love me, I am the one whom she prefers. She told me so only a moment ago."

"Really! You remind me at this moment of Robineau, when he came just now to tell me that he was adored by Mademoiselle de la Pincerie. All you fellows persuade yourselves that you are adored! You will allow me, although I have less self-conceit, to think that I too may possibly make an impression.--But I will see this little Isaure, who is more of a flirt than I had supposed; and I warn you that I too will do my utmost to make her adore me."

"Whatever you may say, I do not confound Isaure with all the coquettes we have known, and I have not the least fear that she will forget the vows she has exchanged with me."

"Aha! So you have already exchanged vows! Didn’t I say that you had made the most of your time?--This, then, is the rare virtue that yields at a first tête-à-tête!"

"That yields!--What, Alfred, you could believe--Oh! trifle with me no longer--Alfred, I swear to you----"

"I do not place any faith in the oaths of a man who has just shown such a lack of honor."

"Alfred!"

"Yes, yes, I say it again; and if it offends you, say the word; I am at your service."

Edouard and Alfred were silent for several moments. But the former reflected that he was more fortunate than Alfred, since Isaure loved him; he thought of the disappointment, of the regrets, which he must feel who had been unable to touch the young mountaineer’s heart; thereupon his wrath faded away, he pitied his rival, he said to himself that it was the duty of the more fortunate lover to pardon the other; and approaching Alfred, he took his hand, pressed it affectionately, and said:

"Could you really fight with me?"

Alfred was moved, but he strove to control himself as he replied:

"When one has insulted a person, should one not be ready to give him satisfaction?"

"But can I take offense at a word inspired by anger, and which your heart disavows? Should one never forgive his friend for anything? What would be the use of friendship if it does not make us more indulgent to those whom we love?"

"Friendship! I no longer believe in yours!"

"Alfred, I have but one thing more to say to you; I propose that Isaure shall be my wife."

"Your wife?" cried Alfred in amazement, "your wife,--that young peasant!"

"Yes, I am fully determined upon it. Will you forgive me now for the preference which she accords to me?"

"If you really propose to make her your wife," said Alfred, after a moment’s silence, "you deserve to win her; for, I admit, I never had that intention. But it is very hard for me to believe it. However, I shall find a way to ascertain the truth."

Alfred walked back to the château and Edouard did the same; but they said nothing more to each other.