La Dame de Monsoreau (63 page)

" Well," said Remy, " now that you know, its name, monseigneur, and that you have made a sufficient examination of the exterior, what do you say if we enter and have a look at the stained-glass windows in the nave ; they are rather curious."

Bussy turned his eyes on Le Haudouin. There was such a sweet smile on the young man's face that Bussy at once came to the conclusion he had some other object in drawing him into the church than showing him stained-glass windows, which he could not see in any case, as it was night.

There was, however, something else to see, for the interior of the church was lit up for the celebration of the office of the Blessed Virgin. There were some of those artless pictures of the sixteenth century, many of which Italy, thanks to her fine climate, has been enabled to still preserve, while amongst us, humidity on one side, and vandalism on the other, have effaced those traditions of the past, those evidences of a faith that exists no longer. The artist had painted in fresco for Francois I., and by his orders, the life of Saint Mary of Egypt, Now, among the most interesting incidents of that life, the painter, being a simple-minded man and also a great lover of truth, of truth historical, though, perhaps, net of truth anatomical, had, in the most prominent part of the chapel, illustrated the critical moment when Saint Mary, not having any money to pay the boatman, offers herself as a substitute for it.

It is but just, however, to say that, notwithstanding the veneration of the faithful for Mary the Egyptian, after her conversion, many honest women of the quarter thought the painter ought to have put this particular picture in some other place, or at least have treated his subject in a less veracious fashion; and the reason they gave, or rather did not give, was that certain details in the fresco attracted too often the attention of the young shop-boys who were forced by their masters to attend church on Sundays and holy days.

Bussy looked at Le Haudouin, who, having become a shop-boy for the nonce, was regarding this picture with great interest.

"Do you really imagine, now," said he, "you will kindle anacreontic fancies in my mind with your chapel of Saint Mary of Egypt ? If you do, you have mistaken your man. You ought to have taken monks or students with you."

" God forbid ! " answered Le Haudouin : " Omnis cogitatio libidinosa cerebrum infecit"

" Well, then, what is your purpose ? "

" Faith, although the place is a little dark, I think you ought to be able to see it plainly enough."

" Come, now ; surely you had some other object in dragging me here than that o£ showing me Saint Mary's knees ? "

" No, upon my word," said Remy.

" Then I have seen all I want to see; let us leave."

" Wait awhile," said E-emy. " The office is nearly over; if we were to leave now we should disturb the congregation."

And lie gently detained Bussy by taking hold of his arm.

" Ah, they are going now," continued Remy, after a few seconds ; " suppose we do as the others."

Bussy moved toward the door, visibly indifferent and absent-minded.

" What!" exclaimed Le Haudouin, " leaving the church without taking holy water ? Why, really, you must be losing your wits."

Bussy walked as obediently as a child to the column within which lay the holy water font.

Le Haudouin seized the opportunity to make a sign of intelligence to a woman who, as soon as she noticed the gesture, proceeded immediately to the same column to which Bussy was going.

So it happened that at the very moment the count was stretching out his hand toward the font, which was in the form of a shell and supported by two Egyptians in black marble, another hand, somewhat large and red, but a woman's, for all that, met his own, and touched it with the purifying liquid.

Bussy could not help raising his eyes from the large, red hand to the woman's face; but as soon as he did so he recoiled and turned pale, for in the hand's owner he recognized Gertrude, half disguised by a thick black woolen veil.

He remained in the same attitude, his arm extended, forgetting to make the sign of the cross, while Gertrude passed him with a bow and vanished through the porch.

Two steps behind Gertrude, whose vigorous arms elbowed a path for her, went a woman carefully wrapped in a silk mantilla, whose youthful, elegant lines, charming foot, and delicate figure reminded him that there was only one other person in the world who could boast of similar possessions.

Remy looked at him silently; Bussy now understood why the young man had brought him to the Rue Sainte-Marie 1'^gyptienne, and into the church.

Bussy followed the woman and Le Haudouin followed Bussy.

It would have been amusing to watch those four figures marching behind one another with measured tread, did not the paleness and sadness of two of them bear witness to cruel suffering.

Gertrude, still in front, turned the corner of the Rue Mont-martre, advanced a few yards along the street, and then

**

UPON A LITTLE WOODEN BENCH BACKED AGAINST THE CHURCH WALL SAT DIANE.

suddenly passed into an alley on the right, which was closed up by a house at the end.

Bussy paused.

" I say, M. le Comte," asked Remy, " do you wish me to tread on your heels ?"

Bussy went on.

Gertrude, in advance as usual, drew a key from her pocket and opened the door of the house. Her mistress passed her, and entered, without turning her head.

Reniy said a few words to the servant, drew aside, and let Bussy pass him. Then he and Gertrude entered in turn, bolted the door, and the blind alley was once more deserted.

It was half-past seven in the evening, and near the beginning of May ; caressed bv the genial mildness of the air, the leaves were already begimiing to expand within their bursting sheaths.

Bussy looked around him ; he was in a little garden about fifty feet square, surrounded by very high walls, the summit of which was clothed with vines -and ivy ; from time to time the growing young shoots sent little particles of plaster falling, and gave to the breeze that strong, pungent perfume which the freshness of the night-time always extracts from their leaves.

Long gilly-flowers, merrily darting out of the chinks in the old church wall, made a brave show with their buds red as unalloyed copper.

The first lilacs which had flowered in the morning sun also fluttered the young man's still unsettled brain with their sweet emanations ; he wondered if all those perfumes, all this warmth and life, had not come to him, so weak and forlorn hardly an hour ago, solely because of the presence of the woman he so tenderly loved.

Under a bower of jasmine and clematis, upon a little wooden bench backed against the church wall, sat Diane, with drooping head and arms hanging inert by her sides, bruising between her fingers a wall-flower, the leaves of which she was unconsciously breaking off and scattering on the sand.

At that moment a nightingale, concealed in a neighboring chestnut, burst into its long and doleful song, which it modulated at intervals with the most intricate and soul-subduing variations.

Bussy was alone in this garden with Madame de Monsoreau,

for Remy and Gertrude kept at a distance. He approached her ; Diane raised her head.

" M. le Comte," said she, in a timid voice, " all dissimulation would be unworthy^ of us both ; if you found me at the church of Sainte-Marie FEgyptienne, it was not chance that brought you thither."

" No, madame," said Bussy, " it was Le Haudouin who induced me to leave my hotel without telling his object, and I swear to you I was ignorant "-

" You mistake the meaning of my words, monsieur," said Diane, sadly. " Yes, I knew it was M. Remy led you to the church — by force, perhaps ? "

" Madame," answered Bussy, " it was not by force. I did not know whom I was to see there."

". That is harsh language, M. le $omte," murmured Diane, shaking her head and looking at Bussy with eyes that were moist with tears. " Do you mean that, if you had been aware of Remy's secret, you would not have accompanied him ? "

" Oh, madame ! "

" It is quite natural and proper. Monsieur, you did me a great service, and I have never yet thanked you for your courtesy. Pardon me, and accept my most heartfelt thanks."

" Madame !"

Bussy came to a dead stop. He was so stunned that he could neither find words nor ideas.

" But I wished to prove to you," continued Diane, growing more animated, " that I am not an ungrateful woman, that I have a heart that can recollect. It was I who requested M. Remy to procure me the honor of this interview, and appointed this place for our meeting. Forgive me if I have displeased you."

Bussy laid a hand upon his heart.

" Oh, madame !" said he, " you surely do not think that!"

Ideas were beginning to come back to this poor broken heart, and it seemed as if the soft evening breeze that had brought with it such sweet perfumes and tender words was dispelling the clouds that dulled his vision.

" I know," resumed Diane, who was the stronger of the two, because she had prepared herself for this interview, " I know how much trouble you have taken in fulfilling my commission. I know all your delicacy, both know and appreciate it, you may rest assured. Imagine, then, what must have been my

sufferings at the thought that you may have misunderstood the feelings of my heart."

" Madame/' said Bussy, " for the last three days I have been ill."

"Yes, I am aware of it," answered Diane, with a blush that betrayed all her interest in that illness, " and I suffered more than you, for M. Remy, who deceived me, no doubt, led me to believe "

" That your forgetfulness was the cause of my suffering. Ah! it is true."

" For that re'ason, I have felt it my duty to do as I am doing, count," continued Madame de Monsoreau, " to thank you for your devoted care and assure you of my eternal gratitude. Do you believe that I am now speaking from the very depths of my heart ? "

Bussy shook his head sadly and did not answer.

" Do you doubt my words ? " inquired Diane.

" Madame," answered Bussy, " those who experience a feeling of kindness for a person display that kindness in the best way they can ; you knew I was at the palace on the night of your presentation at court ; you knew T was before you and must have felt my gaze riveted on your person, and yet you never raised your eyes to meet mine ; not by a single word, not by a single gesture, not by a single sign, did you let me know you were aware that I was there. But, perhaps, I arn wrong ; perhaps you did not recognize me ; you had only seen me twice."

Diane's answer was a look of such sad reproach that Bussy was stirred by it in the very inmost recesses of his soul.

" Forgive me, madame," said he, " forgive me; you are not like other women, and yet you act like ordinary women. This marriage ? "

" Do you not know why I was forced to conclude it ? "

" Yes, but it was so easy to break it."

"It was impossible, on the contrary."

" But did nothing tell you that you had near you a man ready to devote his life to your interests ? "

Diane lowered her eyes.

" It was that, especially, that frightened me," said she.

" And it was to such considerations as these that you sacrificed me ! Ah ! do you dream what sort of a life mine must be, now that you belong to another ? "

" Monsieur," said the countess, with dignity, " I am determined that the honor of the name I bear shall not be imperilled."

" The name of Monsoreau, which, I suppose, you have taken from choice.".

" You think so ! " stammered Diane. " So much the better ! "

Her eyes filled with tears, her head dropped again on her breast, and Bussy, moved by the sight, walked up and down in great agitation.