บทที่ บทที่ 14 · 第14章

“Why not?” the Vicomtesse was saying, as she smiled at the Portuguese.

“Why cannot you come to the Italiens?”

“Affairs! I am to dine with the English Ambassador.”

“Throw him over.”

When a man once enters on a course of deception, he is compelled to

add lie to lie. M. d’Ajuda therefore said, smiling, “Do you lay your

commands on me?”

“Yes, certainly.”

“That was what I wanted to have you say to me,” he answered, dissembling

his feelings in a glance which would have reassured any other woman.

He took the Vicomtesse’s hand, kissed it, and went.

Eugene ran his fingers through his hair, and constrained himself to bow.

He thought that now Mme. de Beauseant would give him her attention;

but suddenly she sprang forward, rushed to a window in the gallery, and

watched M. d’Ajuda step into his carriage; she listened to the order

that he gave, and heard the Swiss repeat it to the coachman:

“To M. de Rochefide’s house.”

Those words, and the way in which M. d’Ajuda flung himself back in the

carriage, were like a lightning flash and a thunderbolt for her; she

walked back again with a deadly fear gnawing at her heart. The most

terrible catastrophes only happen among the heights. The Vicomtesse

went to her own room, sat down at a table, and took up a sheet of dainty

notepaper.

“When, instead of dining with the English Ambassador,”

she wrote, “you go to the Rochefides, you owe me an

explanation, which I am waiting to hear.”

She retraced several of the letters, for her hand was trembling so that

they were indistinct; then she signed the note with an initial C for

“Claire de Bourgogne,” and rang the bell.

“Jacques,” she said to the servant, who appeared immediately, “take

this note to M. de Rochefide’s house at half-past seven and ask for the

Marquis d’Ajuda. If M. d’Ajuda is there, leave the note without waiting

for an answer; if he is not there, bring the note back to me.”

“Madame la Vicomtess, there is a visitor in the drawing-room.”

“Ah! yes, of course,” she said, opening the door.

Eugene was beginning to feel very uncomfortable, but at last the

Vicomtesse appeared; she spoke to him, and the tremulous tones of her

voice vibrated through his heart.

“Pardon me, monsieur,” she said; “I had a letter to write. Now I am

quite at liberty.”

She scarcely knew what she was saying, for even as she spoke she

thought, “Ah! he means to marry Mlle. de Rochefide? But is he still

free? This evening the marriage shall be broken off, or else... But

before to-morrow I shall know.”

“Cousin...” the student replied.

“Eh?” said the Countess, with an insolent glance that sent a cold

shudder through Eugene; he understood what that “Eh?” meant; he had

learned a great deal in three hours, and his wits were on the alert. He

reddened:

“Madame...” he began; he hesitated a moment, and then went on.

“Pardon me; I am in such need of protection that the nearest scrap of

relationship could do me no harm.”

Mme. de Beauseant smiled but there was sadness in her smile; even now

she felt forebodings of the coming pain, the air she breathed was heavy

with the storm that was about to burst.

“If you knew how my family are situated,” he went on, “you would love to

play the part of a beneficent fairy godmother who graciously clears the

obstacles from the path of her protege.”

“Well, cousin,” she said, laughing, “and how can I be of service to

you?”

“But do I know even that? I am distantly related to you, and this

obscure and remote relationship is even now a perfect godsend to me. You

have confused my ideas; I cannot remember the things that I meant to say

to you. I know no one else here in Paris.... Ah! if I could only ask you

to counsel me, ask you to look upon me as a poor child who would fain

cling to the hem of your dress, who would lay down his life for you.”

“Would you kill a man for me?”

“Two,” said Eugene.

“You, child. Yes, you are a child,” she said, keeping back the tears

that came to her eyes; “you would love sincerely.”

“Oh!” he cried, flinging up his head.

The audacity of the student’s answer interested the Vicomtesse in him.

The southern brain was beginning to scheme for the first time. Between

Mme. de Restaud’s blue boudoir and Mme. de Beauseant’s rose-colored

drawing-room he had made a three years’ advance in a kind of law which

is not a recognized study in Paris, although it is a sort of higher

jurisprudence, and, when well understood, is a highroad to success of

every kind.

“Ah! that is what I meant to say!” said Eugene. “I met Mme. de Restaud

at your ball, and this morning I went to see her.

“You must have been very much in the way,” said Mme. de Beauseant,

smiling as she spoke.

“Yes, indeed. I am a novice, and my blunders will set every one against

me, if you do not give me your counsel. I believe that in Paris it is

very difficult to meet with a young, beautiful, and wealthy woman of

fashion who would be willing to teach me, what you women can explain so

well--life. I shall find a M. de Trailles everywhere. So I have come to

you to ask you to give me a key to a puzzle, to entreat you to tell me

what sort of blunder I made this morning. I mentioned an old man----”

“Madame la Duchess de Langeais,” Jacques cut the student short; Eugene

gave expression to his intense annoyance by a gesture.

“If you mean to succeed,” said the Vicomtesse in a low voice, “in the

first place you must not be so demonstrative.”

“Ah! good morning, dear,” she continued, and rising and crossing the

room, she grasped the Duchess’ hands as affectionately as if they had

been sisters; the Duchess responded in the prettiest and most gracious

way.

“Two intimate friends!” said Rastignac to himself. “Henceforward I shall

have two protectresses; those two women are great friends, no doubt, and

this newcomer will doubtless interest herself in her friend’s cousin.”

“To what happy inspiration do I owe this piece of good fortune, dear

Antoinette?” asked Mme. de Beauseant.

“Well, I saw M. d’Ajuda-Pinto at M. de Rochefide’s door, so I thought

that if I came I should find you alone.”

Mme. de Beauseant’s mouth did not tighten, her color did not rise, her

expression did not alter, or rather, her brow seemed to clear as the

Duchess uttered those deadly words.

“If I had known that you were engaged----” the speaker added, glancing

at Eugene.

“This gentleman is M. Eugene de Rastignac, one of my cousins,” said the

Vicomtesse. “Have you any news of General de Montriveau?” she continued.

“Serizy told me yesterday that he never goes anywhere now; has he been

to see you to-day?”

It was believed that the Duchess was desperately in love with M. de

Montriveau, and that he was a faithless lover; she felt the question in

her very heart, and her face flushed as she answered:

“He was at the Elysee yesterday.”

“In attendance?”

“Claire,” returned the Duchess, and hatred overflowed in the glances she

threw at Mme. de Beauseant; “of course you know that M. d’Ajuda-Pinto

is going to marry Mlle. de Rochefide; the bans will be published

to-morrow.”

This thrust was too cruel; the Vicomtesse’s face grew white, but she

answered, laughing, “One of those rumors that fools amuse themselves

with. What should induce M. d’Ajuda to take one of the noblest names

in Portugal to the Rochefides? The Rochefides were only ennobled

yesterday.”

“But Bertha will have two hundred thousand livres a year, they say.”

“M. d’Ajuda is too wealthy to marry for money.”

“But, my dear, Mlle. de Rochefide is a charming girl.”

“Indeed?”

“And, as a matter of fact, he is dining with them to-day; the thing

is settled. It is very surprising to me that you should know so little

about it.”

Mme. de Beauseant turned to Rastignac. “What was the blunder that you

made, monsieur?” she asked. “The poor boy is only just launched into the

world, Antoinette, so that he understands nothing of all this that

we are speaking of. Be merciful to him, and let us finish our talk

to-morrow. Everything will be announced to-morrow, you know, and

your kind informal communication can be accompanied by official

confirmation.”

The Duchess gave Eugene one of those insolent glances that measure a man

from head to foot, and leave him crushed and annihilated.

“Madame, I have unwittingly plunged a dagger into Mme. de Restaud’s

heart; unwittingly--therein lies my offence,” said the student of law,

whose keen brain had served him sufficiently well, for he had detected

the biting epigrams that lurked beneath this friendly talk. “You

continue to receive, possibly you fear, those who know the amount of

pain that they deliberately inflict; but a clumsy blunderer who has no

idea how deeply he wounds is looked upon as a fool who does not know how

to make use of his opportunities, and every one despises him.”

Mme. de Beauseant gave the student a glance, one of those glances in

which a great soul can mingle dignity and gratitude. It was like balm

to the law student, who was still smarting under the Duchess’ insolent

scrutiny; she had looked at him as an auctioneer might look at some

article to appraise its value.

“Imagine, too, that I had just made some progress with the Comte de

Restaud; for I should tell you, madame,” he went on, turning to the

Duchess with a mixture of humility and malice in his manner, “that as

yet I am only a poor devil of a student, very much alone in the world,

and very poor----”

“You should not tell us that, M. de Rastignac. We women never care about

anything that no one else will take.”

“Bah!” said Eugene. “I am only two-and-twenty, and I must make up my

mind to the drawbacks of my time of life. Besides, I am confessing

my sins, and it would be impossible to kneel in a more charming

confessional; you commit your sins in one drawing-room, and receive

absolution for them in another.”

The Duchess’ expression grew colder, she did not like the flippant tone

of these remarks, and showed that she considered them to be in bad

taste by turning to the Vicomtesse with--“This gentleman has only just

come----”

Mme. de Beauseant began to laugh outright at her cousin and at the

Duchess both.

“He has only just come to Paris, dear, and is in search of some one who

will give him lessons in good taste.”