Books: A Woodland Queen, v2
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Andre Theuriet >> A Woodland Queen, v2
Julien de Buxieres's mood was not sufficiently calm to observe anything,
or he would immediately have perceived the impression that his sudden
appearance had produced upon Reine Vincart. As soon as he found himself
within a few steps of the young girl, he saluted her awkwardly, and she
returned his bow with marked coldness. Extremely disconcerted at this
reception, he endeavored to excuse himself for having invaded her
dwelling in so unceremonious a manner.
"I am all the more troubled," added he, humbly, "that after what has
happened, my visit must appear to you indiscreet, if not improper."
Reine, who had more quickly recovered her self-possession, pretended not
to understand the unwise allusion that had escaped the lips of her
visitor. She rose, pushed away with her foot the stalks and pods, which
encumbered the passage, and replied, very shortly:
"You are excused, Monsieur. There is no need of an introduction to enter
La Thuiliere. Besides, I suppose that the motive which has brought you
here can only be a proper one."
While thus speaking, she shook her skirt down, and without any
affectation buttoned up her camisole.
"Certainly, Mademoiselle," faltered Julien, "it is a most serious and
respectable motive that causes me to wish for an interview, and--if--I do
not disturb you--"
"Not in the least, Monsieur; but, if you wish to speak with me, it is
unnecessary for you to remain standing. Allow me to fetch you a chair."
She went into the house, leaving the young man overwhelmed with the
coolness of his reception; a few minutes later she reappeared, bringing a
chair, which she placed under the tree. "Sit here, you will be in the
shade."
She seated herself on the same step as before, leaning her back against
the wall, and her head on her hand.
"I am ready to listen to you," she said.
Julien, much less under his own control than she, discovered that his
mission was more difficult than he had imagined it would be; he
experienced a singular amount of embarrassment in unfolding his subject;
and was obliged to have recourse to prolonged inquiries concerning the
health of Monsieur Vincart.
"He is still in the same condition," said Reine, "neither better nor
worse, and, with the illness which afflicts him, the best I can hope for
is that he may remain in that condition. But," continued she, with a
slight inflection of irony; "doubtless it is not for the purpose of
inquiring after my father's health that you have come all the way from
Vivey?"
"That is true, Mademoiselle," replied he, coloring. "What I have to
speak to you about is a very delicate matter. You will excuse me,
therefore, if I am somewhat embarrassed. I beg of you, Mademoiselle, to
listen to me with indulgence."
"What can he be coming to?" thought Reine, wondering why he made so many
preambles before beginning. And, at the same time, her heart began to
beat violently.
Julien took the course taken by all timid people after meditating for a
long while on the best way to prepare the young girl for the
communication he had taken upon himself to make--he lost his head and
inquired abruptly:
"Mademoiselle Reine, do you not intend to marry?"
Reine started, and gazed at him with a frightened air.
"I!" exclaimed she, "Oh, I have time enough and I am not in a hurry."
Then, dropping her eyes: "Why do you ask that?"
"Because I know of some one who loves you and who would be glad to marry
you."
She became very pale, took up one of the empty pods, twisted it nervously
around her finger without speaking.
"Some one belonging to our neighborhood?" she faltered, after a few
moments' silence.
"Yes; some one whom you know, and who is not a recent arrival here.
Some one who possesses, I believe, sterling qualities sufficient to make
a good husband, and means enough to do credit to the woman who will wed
him. Doubtless you have already guessed to whom I refer?"
She sat motionless, her lips tightly closed, her features rigid, but the
nervous twitching of her fingers as she bent the green stem back and
forth, betrayed her inward agitation.
"No; I can not tell," she replied at last, in an almost inaudible voice.
"Truly?" he exclaimed, with an expression of astonishment, in which was
a certain amount of secret satisfaction; "you can not tell whom I mean?
You have never thought of the person of whom I am speaking in that
light?"
"No; who is that person?"
She had raised her eyes toward his, and they shone with a deep,
mysterious light.
"It is Claudet Sejournant," replied Julien, very gently; and in an
altered tone.
The glow that had illumined the dark orbs of the young girl faded away,
her eyelids dropped, and her countenance became as rigid as before; but
Julien did not notice anything. The words he had just uttered had cost
him too much agony, and he dared not look at his companion, lest he
should behold her joyful surprise, and thereby aggravate his suffering.
"Ah!" said Reine, coldly, "in that case, why did not Claudet come
himself and state his own case?"
"His courage failed him at the last moment--and so--"
"And so," continued she, with sarcastic bitterness of tone, "you took
upon yourself to speak for him?"
"Yes; I promised him I would plead his cause. I was sure, moreover, that
I should not have much difficulty in gaining the suit. Claudet has loved
you for a long time. He is good-hearted, and a fine fellow to look at.
And as to worldly advantages, his position is now equal to your own.
I have made over to him, by legal contract, the half of his father's
estate. What answer am I to take back?"
He spoke with difficulty in broken sentences, without turning his eyes
toward Mademoiselle Vincart. The silence that followed his last question
seemed to him unbearable, and the contrasting chirping of the noisy
grasshoppers, and the buzzing of the flies in the quiet sunny garden,
resounded unpleasantly in his ears.
Reine remained speechless. She was disconcerted and well-nigh
overpowered by the unexpected announcement, and her brain seemed unable
to bear the crowd of tumultuous and conflicting emotions which presented
themselves. Certainly, she had already suspected that Claudet had a
secret liking for her, but she never had thought of encouraging the
feeling. The avowal of his hopes neither surprised nor hurt her; that
which pained her was the intervention of Julien, who had taken in hand
the cause of his relative. Was it possible that this same M. de
Buxieres, who had made so audacious a display of his tender feeling in
the hut, could now come forward as Claudet's advocate, as if it were the
most natural thing in the world for him to do? In that case, his
astonishing behavior at the fete, which had caused her so much pain,
and which she had endeavored to excuse in her own mind as the untutored
outbreak of his pentup love, that fiery caress, was only the insulting
manifestation of a brutal caprice? The transgressor thought so little of
her, she was of such small importance in his eyes, that he had no
hesitation in proposing that she marry Claudet? She beheld herself
scorned, humiliated, insulted by the only man in whom she ever had felt
interested. In the excess of her indignation she felt herself becoming
hardhearted and violent; a profound discouragement, a stony indifference
to all things, impelled her to extreme measures, and, not being able at
the moment to find any one on whom she could put them in operation, she
was almost tempted to lay violent hands on herself.
"What shall I say to Claudet?" repeated Julien, endeavoring to conceal
the suffering which was devouring his heart by an assumption of outward
frigidity.
She turned slowly round, fixed her searching eyes, which had become as
dark as waters reflecting a stormy sky, upon his face, and demanded, in
icy tones:
"What do you advise me to say?"
Now, if Julien had been less of a novice, he would have understood that a
girl who loves never addresses such a question; but the feminine heart
was a book in which he was a very poor speller. He imagined that Reine
was only asking him as a matter of form, and that it was from a feeling
of maidenly reserve that she adopted this passive method of escaping from
openly declaring her wishes. She no doubt desired his friendly aid in
the matter, and he felt as if he ought to grant her that satisfaction.
"I have the conviction," stammered he, "that Claudet will make a good
husband, and you will do well to accept him."
Reine bit her lip, and her paleness increased so as to set off still more
the fervid lustre of her eyes. The two little brown moles stood out more
visibly on her white neck, and added to her attractions.
"So be it!" exclaimed she, "tell Claudet that I consent, and that he
will be welcome at La Thuiliere."
"I will tell him immediately." He bent gravely and sadly before Reine,
who remained standing and motionless against the door. "Adieu,
Mademoiselle!"
He turned away abruptly; plunged into the first avenue he came to, lost
his way twice and finally reached the courtyard, and thence escaped at
breakneck speed across the fields.
Reine maintained her statue-like pose as long as the young man's
footsteps resounded on the stony paths; but when they died gradually away
in the distance, when nothing could be heard save the monotonous trill of
the grasshoppers basking in the sun, she threw herself down on the green
heap of rubbish; she covered her face with her hands and gave way to a
passionate outburst of tears and sobs.
In the meanwhile, Julien de Buxieres, angry with himself, irritated by
the speedy success of his mission, was losing his way among the
pasturages, and getting entangled in the thickets. All the details of
the interview presented themselves before his mind with remorseless
clearness. He seemed more lonely, more unfortunate, more disgusted with
himself and with all else than he ever had been before. Ashamed of the
wretched part he had just been enacting, he felt almost childish
repugnance to returning to Vivey, and tried to pick out the paths that
would take him there by the longest way. But he was not sufficiently
accustomed to laying out a route for himself, and when he thought he had
a league farther to go, and had just leaped over an intervening hedge,
the pointed roofs of the chateau appeared before him at a distance of not
more than a hundred feet, and at one of the windows on the first floor he
could distinguish Claudet, leaning for ward, as if to interrogate him.
He remembered then the promise he had made the young huntsman; and
faithful to his word, although with rage and bitterness in his heart,
he raised his hat, and with effort, waved it three times above his head.
At this signal, the forerunner of good news, Claudet replied by a
triumphant shout, and disappeared from the window. A moment later,
Julien heard the noise of furious galloping down the enclosures of the
park. It was the lover, hastening to learn the particulars of the
interview.
ETEXT EDITOR'S BOOKMARKS:
I measure others by myself
Like all timid persons, he took refuge in a moody silence
Others found delight in the most ordinary amusements
Sensitiveness and disposition to self-blame
Women: they are more bitter than death
Yield to their customs, and not pooh-pooh their amusements
You must be pleased with yourself--that is more essential