Books: Monsieur de Camors, v1
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"Perfectly; but how can it concern me?"
"Concern you? You are about to hear. You are my cousin, are you not?"
"Truly, General, I have that honor."
"But very distant, eh? I have thirty-six cousins as near as you, and--
the devil! To speak plainly, I owe you nothing."
"And I have never demanded payment even of that, General."
"Ah, I know that! Well, you are my cousin, very far removed! But you
are more than that. Your father saved my life in the Atlas. He has
related it all to you--No? Well, that does not astonish me; for he was
no braggart, that father of yours; he was a man! Had he not quitted the
army, a brilliant career was before him. People talk a great deal of
Pelissier, of Canrobert, of MacMahon, and of others. I say nothing
against them; they are good men doubtless--at least I hear so; but your
father would have eclipsed them all had he taken the trouble. But he
didn't take the trouble!
"Well, for the story: We were crossing a gorge of the Atlas; we were in
retreat; I had lost my command; I was following as a volunteer. It is
useless to weary you with details; we were in retreat; a shower of stones
and bullets poured upon us, as if from the moon. Our column was slightly
disordered; I was in the rearguard--whack! my horse was down, and I
under him!
We were in a narrow gorge with sloping sides some fifteen feet high; five
dirty guerillas slid down the sides and fell upon me and on the beast--
forty devils! I can see them now! Just here the gorge took a sudden
turn, so no one could see my trouble; or no one wished to see it, which
comes to the same thing.
"I have told you things were in much disorder; and I beg you to remember
that with a dead horse and five live Arabs on top of me, I was not very
comfortable. I was suffocating; in fact, I was devilish far from
comfortable.
"Just then your father ran to my assistance, like the noble fellow he
was! He drew me from under my horse; he fell upon the Arabs. When I was
up, I aided him a little--but that is nothing to the point--I never shall
forget him!"
There was a pause, when the General added:
"Let us understand each other, and speak plainly. Would it be very
repugnant to your feelings to have seven hundred thousand francs a year,
and to be called, after me, Marquis de Campvallon d'Armignes? Come,
speak up, and give me an answer."
The young Count reddened slightly.
"My name is Camors," he said, gently.
"What! You would not wish me to adopt you? You refuse to become the
heir of my name and of my fortune?"
"Yes, General."
"Do you not wish time to reflect upon it?"
"No, General. I am sincerely grateful for your goodness; your generous
intentions toward me touch me deeply, but in a question of honor I never
reflect or hesitate."
The General puffed fiercely, like a locomotive blowing off steam. Then
he rose and took two or three turns up and down the gallery, shuffling
his feet, his chest heaving. Then he returned and reseated himself.
"What are your plans for the future?" he asked, abruptly.
"I shall try, in the first place, General, to repair my fortune, which is
much shattered. I am not so great a stranger to business as people
suppose, and my father's connections and my own will give me a footing in
some great financial or industrial enterprise. Once there, I shall
succeed by force of will and steady work. Besides, I shall fit myself
for public life, and aspire, when circumstances permit me, to become a
deputy."
"Well, well, a man must do something. Idleness is the parent of all
vices. See; like yourself, I am fond of the horse--a noble animal.
I approve of racing; it improves the breed of horses, and aids in
mounting our cavalry efficiently. But sport should be an amusement, not
a profession. Hem! so you aspire to become a deputy?"
"Assuredly."
"Then I can help you in that, at least. When you are ready I will send
in my resignation, and recommend to my brave and faithful constituents
that you take my place. Will that suit you?"
"Admirably, General; and I am truly grateful. But why should you
resign?"
"Why? Well, to be useful to you in the first place; in the second, I am
sick of it. I shall not be sorry to give personally a little lesson to
the government, which I trust will profit by it. You know me--I am no
Jacobin; at first I thought that would succeed. But when I see what is
going on!"
"What is going on, General?"
"When I see a Tonnelier a great dignitary! It makes me long for the pen
of Tacitus, on my word. When I was retired in 'forty-eight, under a mean
and cruel injustice they did me, I had not reached the age of exemption.
I was still capable of good and loyal service; but probably I could have
waited until an amendment. I found it at least in the confidence of my
brave and faithful constituents. But, my young friend, one tires of
everything. The Assemblies at the Luxembourg--I mean the Palace of the
Bourbons--fatigue me. In short, whatever regret I may feel at parting
from my honorable colleagues, and from my faithful constituents, I shall
abdicate my functions whenever you are ready and willing to accept them.
Have you not some property in this district?"
"Yes, General, a little property which belonged to my mother; a small
manor, with a little land round it, called Reuilly."
"Reuilly! Not two steps from Des Rameures! Certainly--certainly! Well,
that is one foot in the stirrup."
"But then there is one difficulty; I am obliged to sell it."
"The devil! And why?"
"It is all that is left to me, and it only brings me eleven thousand
francs a year; and to embark in business I need capital--a beginning.
I prefer not to borrow."
The General rose, and once more his military tramp shook the gallery.
Then he threw himself back on the sofa.
"You must not sell that property! I owe you nothing, 'tis true, but I
have an affection for you. You refuse to be my adopted son. Well, I
regret this, and must have recourse to other projects to aid you. I warn
you I shall try other projects. You must not sell your lands if you wish
to become a deputy, for the country people--especially those of Des
Rameures--will not hear of it. Meantime you will need funds. Permit me
to offer you three hundred thousand francs. You may return them when you
can, without interest, and if you never return them you will confer a
very great favor upon me."
"But in truth, General--"
"Come, come! Accept it as from a relative--from a friend--from your
father's friend--on any ground you please, so you accept. If not, you
will wound me seriously."
Camors rose, took the General's hand, and pressing it with emotion, said,
briefly:
"I accept, sir. I thank you!"
The General sprang up at these words like a furious lion, his moustache
bristling, his nostrils dilating, his chest heaving. Staring at the
young Count with real ferocity, he suddenly drew him to his breast and
embraced him with great fervor. Then he strode to the door with his
usual solemnity, and quickly brushing a tear from his cheek, left the
room.
The General was a good man; but, like many good people, he had not been
happy. You might smile at his oddities: you never could reproach him
with vices.
He was a small man, but he had a great soul. Timid at heart, especially
with women, he was delicate, passionate, and chaste. He had loved but
little, and never had been loved at all. He declared that he had retired
from all friendship with women, because of a wrong that he had suffered.
At forty years of age he had married the daughter of a poor colonel who
had been killed by the enemy. Not long after, his wife had deceived him
with one of his aides-de-camp.
The treachery was revealed to him by a rival, who played on this occasion
the infamous role of Iago. Campvallon laid aside his starred epaulettes,
and in two successive duels, still remembered in Africa, killed on two
successive days the guilty one and his betrayer. His wife died shortly
after, and he was left more lonely than ever. He was not the man to
console himself with venal love; a gross remark made him blush; the corps
de ballet inspired him with terror. He did not dare to avow it, but the
dream of his old age, with his fierce moustache and his grim countenance,
was the devoted love of some young girl, at whose feet he might pour out,
without shame, without distrust even, all the tenderness of his simple
and heroic heart.
On the evening of the day which had been marked for Camors by these two
interesting episodes, Mademoiselle de Luc d'Estrelles did not come down
to dinner, but sent word she had a headache. This message was received
with a general murmur, and with some sharp remarks from Madame de la
Roche-Jugan, which implied Mademoiselle was not in a position which
justified her in having a headache. The dinner, however, was not less
gay than usual, thanks to Mesdames Bacquiere and Van-Cuyp, and to their
husbands, who had arrived from Paris to pass Sunday with them.
To celebrate this happy meeting, they drank very freely of champagne,
talked slang, and imitated actors, causing much amusement to the
servants. Returning to the drawing-room, these innocent young things
thought it very funny to take their husbands' hats, put their feet in
them, and, thus shod, to run a steeplechase across the room. Meantime
Madame de la Roche-Jagan felt the General's pulse frequently, and found
it variable.
Next morning at breakfast all the General's guests assembled, except
Mademoiselle d'Estrelles, whose headache apparently was no better. They
remarked also the absence of the General, who was the embodiment of
politeness and punctuality. A sense of uneasiness was beginning to creep
over all, when suddenly the door opened and the General appeared leading
Mademoiselle d'Estrelles by the hand.
The young girl's eyes were red; her face was very pale. The General's
face was scarlet. He advanced a few steps, like an actor about to
address his audience; cast fierce glances on all sides of him, and
cleared his throat with a sound that echoed like the bass notes of a
grand piano. Then he spoke in a voice of thunder:
"My dear guests and friends, permit me to present to you the Marquise de
Campvallon d'Armignes!"
An iceberg at the North Pole is not colder than was the General's salon
at this announcement.
He held the young lady by the hand, and retaining his position in the
centre of the room, launched out fierce glances. Then his eyes began to
wander and roll convulsively in their sockets, as if he was himself
astonished at the effect his announcement had produced.
Camors was the first to come to the rescue, and taking his hand, said:
"Accept, my dear General, my congratulations. I am extremely happy, and
rejoice at your good fortune; the more so, as I feel the lady is so well
worthy of you." Then, bowing to Mademoiselle d'Estrelles with a grave
grace, he pressed her hand, and turning away, was struck dumb at seeing
Madame de la Roche-Jugan in the arms of the General. She passed from his
into those of Mademoiselle d'Estrelles, who feared at first, from the
violence of the caresses, that there was a secret design to strangle her.
"General," said Madame de la Roche-Jugan in a plaintive voice, "you
remember I always recommended her to you. I always spoke well of her.
She is my daughter--my second child. Sigismund, embrace your sister!
You permit it, General? Ah, we never know how much we love these
children until we lose them! I always spoke well of her; did I not--Ge--
General?" And here Madame de la Roche-Jugan burst into tears.
The General, who began to entertain a high opinion of the Countess's
heart, declared that Mademoiselle d'Estrelles would find in him a friend
and father. After which flattering assurance, Madame de la Roche-Jugan
seated herself in a solitary corner, behind a curtain, whence they heard
sobs and moans issue for a whole hour. She could not even breakfast;
happiness had taken away her appetite.
The ice once broken, all tried to make themselves agreeable. The
Tonneliers did not behave, however, with the same warmth as the tender
Countess, and it was easy to see that Mesdames Bacquiere and VanCuyp
could not picture to themselves, without envy, the shower of gold and
diamonds about to fall into the lap of their cousin. Messrs. Bacquiere
and Van-Cuyp were naturally the first sufferers, and their charming wives
made them understand, at intervals during the day, that they thoroughly
despised them. It was a bitter Sunday for those poor fellows. The
Tonnelier family also felt that little more was to be done there, and
left the next morning with a very cold adieu.
The conduct of the Countess was more noble. She declared she would wait
upon her dearly beloved Charlotte from the altar to the very threshold of
the nuptial chamber; that she would arrange her trousseau, and that the
marriage should take place from her house.
"Deuce take me, my dear Countess!" cried the General, "I must declare
one thing--you astonish me. I was unjust, cruelly unjust, toward you.
I reproach myself, on my faith! I believed you worldly, interested, not
open-hearted. But you are none of these; you are an excellent woman--
a heart of gold--a noble soul! My dear friend, you have found the best
way to convert me. I have always believed the religion of honor was
sufficient for a man--eh, Camors? But I am not an unbeliever, my dear
Countess, and, on my sacred word, when I see a perfect creature like you,
I desire to believe everything she believes, if only to be pleasant to
her!"
When Camors, who was not quite so innocent, asked himself what was the
secret of his aunt's politic conduct, but little effort was necessary to
understand it.
Madame de la Roche-Jugan, who had finally convinced herself that the
General had an aneurism, flattered herself that the cares of matrimony
would hasten the doom of her old friend. In any event, he was past
seventy years of age. But Charlotte was young, and so also was
Sigismund. Sigismund could become tender; if necessary, could quietly
court the young Marquise until the day when he could marry her, with all
her appurtenances, over the mausoleum of the General. It was for this
that Madame de la Roche-Jugan, crushed for a moment under the unexpected
blow that ruined her hopes, had modified her tactics and drawn her
batteries, so to speak, under cover of the enemy. This was what she was
contriving while she was weeping behind the curtain.
Camors's personal feelings at the announcement of this marriage were not
of the most agreeable description. First, he was obliged to acknowledge
that he had unjustly judged Mademoiselle d'Estrelles, and that at the
moment of his accusing her of speculating on his small fortune, she was
offering to sacrifice for him the annual seven hundred thousand francs of
the General.
He felt his vanity injured, that he had not had the best part of this
affair. Besides, he felt obliged to stifle from this moment the secret
passion with which the beautiful and singular girl had inspired him.
Wife or widow of the General, it was clear that Mademoiselle d'Estrelles
had forever escaped him. To seduce the wife of this good old man from
whom he accepted such favors, or even to marry her, widowed and rich,
after refusing her when poor, were equal unworthiness and baseness that
honor forbade in the same degree and with the same rigor as if this
honor, which he made the only law of his life, were not a mockery and an
empty word.
Camors, however, did not fail to comprehend the position in this light,
and he resigned himself to it.
During the four or five days he remained at Campvallon his conduct was
perfect. The delicate and reserved attentions with which he surrounded
Mademoiselle d'Estrelles were tinged with a melancholy that showed her at
the same time his gratitude, his respect, and his regrets.
M. de Campvallon had not less reason to congratulate himself on the
conduct of the young Count. He entered into the folly of his host with
affectionate grace. He spoke to him little of the beauty of his fiancee:
much of her high moral qualities; and let him see his most flattering
confidence in the future of this union.
On the eve of his departure Camors was summoned into the General's study.
Handing his young relative a check for three hundred thousand francs, the
General said:
"My dear young friend, I ought to tell you, for the peace of your
conscience, that I have informed Mademoiselle d'Estrelles of this little
service I render you. She has a great deal of love and affection for
you, my dear young friend; be sure of that.
"She therefore received my communication with sincere pleasure. I also
informed her that I did not intend taking any receipt for this sum, and
that no reclamation of it should be made at any time, on any account.
"Now, my dear Camors, do me one favor. To tell you my inmost thought, I
shall be most happy to see you carry into execution your project of
laudable ambition. My own new position, my age, my tastes, and those I
perceive in the Marquise, claim all my leisure--all my liberty of action.
Consequently, I desire as soon as possible to present you to my generous
and faithful constituents, as well for the Corps Legislatif as for the
General Council. You had better make your preliminary arrangements as
soon as possible. Why should you defer it? You are very well
cultivated--very capable. Well, let us go ahead--let us begin at once.
What do you say?"
"I should prefer, General, to be more mature; but it would be both folly
and ingratitude in me not to accede to your kind wish. What shall I do
first?"
"Well, my young friend, instead of leaving tomorrow for Paris, you must
go to your estate at Reuilly: go there and conquer Des Rameures."
"And who are the Des Rameures, General?"
"You do not know the Des Rameures? The deuce! no; you can not know
them! That is unfortunate, too.
"Des Rameures is a clever fellow, a very clever fellow, and all-powerful
in his neighborhood. He is an original, as you will see; and with him
lives his niece, a charming woman. I tell you, my boy, you must please
them, for Des Rameures is the master of the county. He protects me, or
else, upon my honor, I should be stopped on the road!"
"But, General, what shall I do to please this Des Rameures?"
"You will see him. He is, as I tell you, a great oddity. He has not
been in Paris since 1825; he has a horror of Paris and Parisians. Very
well, it only needs a little tact to flatter his views on that point. We
always need a little tact in this world, young man."
"But his niece, General?"
"Ah, the deuce! You must please the niece also. He adores her, and she
manages him completely, although he grumbles a little sometimes."
"And what sort of woman is she?"
"Oh, a respectable woman--a perfectly respectable woman. A widow;
somewhat a devotee, but very well informed. A woman of great merit."
"But what course must I take to please this lady?"
"What course? By my faith, young man, you ask a great many questions.
I never yet learned to please a woman. I am green as a goose with them
always. It is a thing I can not understand; but as for you, my young
comrade, you have little need to be instructed in that matter. You can't
fail to please her; you have only to make yourself agreeable. But you
will know how to do it--you will conduct yourself like an angel, I am
sure."
"Captivate Des Rameures and his niece--this is your advice!"
Early next morning Camors left the Chateau de Campvallon, armed with
these imperfect instructions; and, further, with a letter from the
General to Des Rameures.
He went in a hired carriage to his own domain of Reuilly, which lay ten
leagues off. While making this transit he reflected that the path of
ambition was not one of roses; and that it was hard for him, at the
outset of his enterprise, to by compelled to encounter two faces likely
to be as disquieting as those of Des Rameures and his niece.
CHAPTER VI
THE OLD DOMAIN OF REUILLY
The domain of Reuilly consisted of two farms and of a house of some
pretension, inhabited formerly by the maternal family of M. de Camors.
He had never before seen this property when he reached it on the evening
of a beautiful summer day. A long and gloomy avenue of elms, interlacing
their thick branches, led to the dwelling-house, which was quite unequal
to the imposing approach to it; for it was but an inferior construction
of the past century, ornamented simply by a gable and a bull's-eye, but
flanked by a lordly dovecote.
It derived a certain air of dignity from two small terraces, one above
the other, in front of it, while the triple flight of steps was supported
by balusters of granite. Two animals, which had once, perhaps, resembled
lions, were placed one upon each side of the balustrade at the platform
of the highest terrace; and they had been staring there for more than a
hundred and fifty years. Behind the house stretched the garden; and in
its midst, mounted on a stone arch, stood a dismal sun-dial with hearts
and spades painted between its figures; while the trees around it were
trimmed into the shapes of confessionals and chess-pawns. To the right,
a labyrinth of young trees, similarly clipped in the fashion of the time,
led by a thousand devious turns to a mysterious valley, where one heard
continually a low, sad murmur. This proceeded from a nymph in terra-
cotta, from whose urn dripped, day and night, a thin rill of water into a
small fishpond, bordered by grand old poplars, whose shadows threw upon
its surface, even at mid-day, the blackness of Acheron.
Camors's first reflection at viewing this prospect was an exceedingly
painful one; and the second was even more so.
At another time he would doubtless have taken an interest in searching
through these souvenirs of the past for traces of an infant nurtured
there, who had a mother, and who had perhaps loved these old relics. But
his system did not admit of sentiment, so he crushed the ideas that
crowded to his mind, and, after a rapid glance around him, called for his
dinner.
The old steward and his wife--who for thirty years had been the sole
inhabitants of Reuilly--had been informed of his coming. They had spent
the day in cleaning and airing the house; an operation which added to the
discomfort they sought to remove, and irritated the old residents of the
walls, while it disturbed the sleep of hoary spiders in their dusty webs.
A mixed odor of the cellar, of the sepulchre, and of an old coach, struck
Camors when he penetrated into the principal room, where his dinner was
to be served.
Taking up one or two flickering candles, the like of which he had never
seen before, Camors proceeded to inspect the quaint portraits of his
ancestors, who seemed to stare at him in great surprise from their
cracked canvases. They were a dilapidated set of old nobles, one having
lost a nose, another an arm, others again sections of their faces. One
of them--a chevalier of St. Louis--had received a bayonet thrust through
the centre in the riotous times of the Revolution; but he still smiled at
Camors, and sniffed at a flower, despite the daylight shining through
him.
Camors finished his inspection, thinking to himself they were a highly
respectable set of ancestors, but not worth fifteen francs apiece. The
housekeeper had passed half the previous night in slaughtering various
dwellers in the poultry-yard; and the results of the sacrifice now
successively appeared, swimming in butter. Happily, however, the
fatherly kindness of the General had despatched a hamper of provisions
from Campvallon, and a few slices of pate, accompanied by sundry glasses
of Chateau-Yquem helped the Count to combat the dreary sadness with which
his change of residence, solitude, the night, and the smoke of his
candles, all conspired to oppress him.
Regaining his usual good spirits, which had deserted him for a moment, he
tried to draw out the old steward, who was waiting on him. He strove to
glean from him some information of the Des Rameures; but the old servant,
like every Norman peasant, held it as a tenet of faith that he who gave a
plain answer to any question was a dishonored man. With all possible
respect he let Camors understand plainly that he was not to be deceived
by his affected ignorance into any belief that M. le Comte did not know a
great deal better than he who and what M. des Rameures was--where he
lived, and what he did; that M. le Comte was his master, and as such was
entitled to his respect, but that he was nevertheless a Parisian, and--
as M. des Rameures said--all Parisians were jesters.
Camors, who had taken an oath never to get angry, kept it now; drew from
the General's old cognac a fresh supply of patience, lighted a cigar, and
left the room.
For a few moments he leaned over the balustrade of the terrace and looked
around. The night, clear and beautiful, enveloped in its shadowy veil
the widestretching fields, and a solemn stillness, strange to Parisian
ears, reigned around him, broken only at intervals by the distant bay of
a hound, rising suddenly, and dying into peace again. His eyes becoming
accustomed to the darkness, Camors descended the terrace stairs and
passed into the old avenue, which was darker and more solemn than a
cathedral-aisle at midnight, and thence into an open road into which it
led by chance.
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