CHAPTER XV

JULIA'S STORY. WHAT WAS CONTAINED IN THE PORTFOLIO

The barber left Urbain in full pursuit of the luckless chevalier and putting his horse at full gallop tore back to the Chateau de Sarcus, in order that he might immediately apprise the marquis of that which had taken place. He arrived in short order at the chateau and hastened to present himself to Villebelle, whom he informed of the meeting of Urbain and Chaudoreille and the disclosures that had been made.

"Then this young man is aware that I have grossly deceived him, that I am Blanche's abductor and that she is now at the chateau?" said the marquis. "He is young and ingenuous, his love for this hapless child is pure and virtuous, he sought to honor her in making her his wife,--how vile and dishonorable must I appear in his eyes!"

"What does the opinion of this beardless boy matter to you, monsieur le marquis? The most important thing you have to think of is how to prevent his coming in contact with Blanche, and that, now, will be rather difficult. Now that he is sure that she is here, he will employ a thousand stratagems to introduce himself into the chateau--"

"No, this boy shall not rob me of the woman whom I love."

"If he comes, as I am certain he will, to demand satisfaction, it's a sure thing that you cannot refuse to fight him, and that will be the best means of disembarrassing yourself of him. With your cool blood and your skill with the sword, you ought easily to be able to vanquish a man blinded by fury."

"Wretch! do you wish that I should be bathed in the blood of this child? No, I am already guilty enough. But what prevents me from leaving Sarcus, from carrying Blanche to a country where Urbain cannot discover her? Yes, tonight even, we will start. We will go to unknown parts. Go immediately and find Germain. The preparations for our departure must be made in the greatest secrecy, and Blanche must not know of them until the last moment; at midnight we will leave the chateau. By this means I hope to make all traces of Blanche lost to Urbain forever."

"That is a very good idea, monseigneur, but Julia--"

"I shall trouble myself no more about her now, besides, this step will also relieve me from her importunities. Go, run, and order everything for tonight."

Touquet hastened to execute the marquis' orders; it was already late, and there remained only a short time to Villebelle in which to make his preparations for a voyage which he presumed would be of long duration. The more he reflected, the more he approved of his plan. He imagined that Blanche would find, in travelling in strange countries, distractions which would make her soon forget the persons whom she had left in France, and he flattered himself that he would soon see the consummation of all his wishes.

Eleven o'clock struck. The night was fine; everything was in readiness for their start, some fresh and lively horses were harnessed to a travelling carriage. The marquis was still in his apartment, occupied in finishing some letters to his stewards and some intimate friends in Paris. Near him was the barber, to whom he gave his last instructions; charging him in case he should see Urbain again, to advise that young man to forget a woman whom he could never possess; and to enjoy himself with the large fortune which Villebelle had placed at his disposal.

The barber listened quietly to the marquis; his eyes were fixed on the gold and the bills of exchange spread on the desk by the side of a pair of travelling pistols. A few moments later Villebelle was about to tell Marie to go and call Blanche, when the door of the room opened softly. The marquis, surprised that anyone should dare to come into his room so late, raised his eyes and recognized Julia, wrapped in her black mantle.

"This woman again!" exclaimed Villebelle, while Touquet turned and remained struck with astonishment on perceiving the Italian.

"Calm yourself, seigneur," said Julia, closing the door of the room, "this visit will be the last that I shall make you."

"How did you come here? What do you want? Speak, hasten to answer me unless you expect me to punish you for your strange conduct."

"I fear nothing, seigneur, it is very little matter what becomes of me after this. I find you here with your confidant, which is just what I wish. Deign to listen attentively to me. That which I am about to tell you will, I am sure, change all your resolutions, and your departure will not take place."

Julia's singular tone, and her unexpected appearance at so late an hour, inspired Villebelle with curiosity and a secret terror. He signed to the young Italian to speak. The latter seated herself between the marquis and the barber, who waited impatiently for her explanation, and after looking attentively at them for some time with a peculiar expression, she at length began her story.

"It is first necessary, monsieur le marquis, that you should know that I am the daughter of a man named Cesar Perditor, who passed for a sorcerer in the eyes of ignorant people, and whose reputation became such that he was obliged to quit Paris to protect himself from death, or, at least, from a perpetual prison in the dungeons of the Bastile."

"Cesar! I often heard speak of that famous sorcerer," said the marquis. "Did he not hold his conferences in a quarry near Gentilly?"

"Yes, seigneur; and there it was that an old man came to consult him, an old man whose daughter you had abducted, and whom you had wounded with your sword--the unfortunate Delmar."

"Estrelle's father?"

"Exactly, monseigneur. Old Delmar told his troubles to my father, and begged him to give him the means to revenge himself upon you; but despite all his skill Cesar would have had difficulty in satisfying the old man if, while receiving the confidences of a great part of the noblemen and of the women of fashion, he had not learned where your little house was situated, and to what neighborhood you had taken the young Estrelle. He told it to the old man, and the latter rescued his daughter from your hands."

"What? It was her father who took her from the shelter where I had placed her?" said the marquis with surprise, and appearing at every moment more interested in Julia's tale. "And what became of her?"

"One moment, seigneur, you will learn all if you will allow me to continue. Old Delmar had regained his daughter, but you had dishonored her, and the adventure had caused too much stir to allow them to remain in the city that you lived in. He possessed some fortune; he sold everything, realized his property, recompensed my father for the service he had rendered him, and carried Estrelle to the depths of Lorraine, and there she gave birth to her child."

"Good God! she was a mother! can it be possible that Estrelle made me a father? Ah, Julia, in mercy finish."

Julia seemed to enjoy for some moments the marquis' uneasiness, then she resumed her story.

"It was at this time that my father was obliged to escape from Paris in order to avoid arrest, and the report spread that he had perished in a dungeon of the Bastile; but he had amassed sufficient for his subsistence, and leaving his dangerous occupation, he had no thought but to live in peace. I was then in Italy, my birthplace. My father came to seek me, and brought me to France, the climate of which pleased him. Unable to return to Paris, where he would have been recognized, my father settled in the neighborhood of Nancy; there he again saw old Delmar and his sad daughter, secretly bringing up a child of whom she could only call herself the mother with blushes. Later he became acquainted with a poor farmer who had been reduced to poverty by the misconduct of his son, a wretch who, after committing a crime in the country where he was born, had fled, carrying away from his parents all that they possessed, and leaving them in the direst poverty."

"The history of this man can have no connection with Estrelle's child," said the marquis, impatiently; "in pity, Julia, finish what you have to say to me."

"Pardon me, monsieur le marquis, that is more important than you think, and it is very interesting to your worthy confidant, who has already recognized his father in the old farmer of whom I have spoken."

The barber, who had given great attention to Julia's last words, immediately exclaimed,--

"Oh, was that my father? I was guilty towards him I confess; love of gold made me commit many faults, but I always had the intention of repairing the wrong I had done, and there is still time for it."

"No, it is too late," said Julia, casting at the barber a terrible look.

"Is he dead?"

Julia remained silent. The marquis rose abruptly, exclaiming,--

"Well, then, cruel woman, have you amused yourself sufficiently with my torture? When are you going to make an end of this?"

"You are both very impatient," said the young Italian, smiling bitterly; "but there is little more to tell you. Old Touquet asked my father whether he had, in his travels, heard his son spoken of. My father could tell him nothing satisfactory. Soon after we went to dwell in a village near Amiens; it was there that I lived up to the age of fifteen years. Then my father died; and I came to Paris, where I went into a shop as a simple workwoman. My father had left me no property except a manuscript containing the most curious adventures of his life, and the secret history of the persons who had consulted him. This is how I learned, monsieur le marquis, of the abduction of poor Estrelle, and it was in examining these notes of my father that I saw in what manner the barber Touquet had acted toward his parents."

"Is that all that you know?" said the marquis. "Have you learned nothing more in regard to Estrelle and her child?"

"A short time ago I did not know anything further, seigneur, but chance has put me in possession of all that you would know, thanks to a visit which I paid to the barber, for it was at his house that I found the clew to the mystery."

"At my house?" said Touquet, looking at Julia in surprise.

"Yes, at your house, in the closet hidden at the back of the alcove in Marguerite's chamber."

Pale and trembling, the barber muttered,--

"You have been in that closet--but there was nothing there; no, I am very certain of it."

"You are mistaken, for in disturbing, by chance, a chest which stood on the floor, I found this portfolio, which probably had been hidden by the person whom you lodged there, who, not knowing how to dispose of these important papers, had deemed it wise to put them in this secret place during the time that he stayed at your house."

The barber looked with terror on the portfolio which Julia had drawn from beneath her cloak, while the marquis exclaimed,--

"Do these papers come from Blanche's father?"

"They come, in fact, from the person who brought that young girl to the barber's house. Seigneur, read first that one."

Julia gave a paper to Villebelle, who uttered a cry of surprise as he read,--

"Certificate of the birth of Blanche, daughter of Estrelle Delmar."

"O my God!" said the marquis, breathing with difficulty, "can it be?"

"Wait, seigneur, do you know Estrelle's writing?"

"Yes, that is it, I recognize it."

"Read this note."

The marquis took the letter and eagerly read it,--

I feel that I am about to die, but, at least, my father has forgiven me. He had forbidden me to make Blanche's existence known to her father, and, as long as he lived, I respected his orders; but he is no more, and I am about to follow him to the tomb. Villebelle, Blanche is your daughter, the fruit of our love. Good-by. Love her more than you have loved her mother. I forgive you.

ESTRELLE DELMAR.

"O Blanche, O my daughter!" exclaimed the marquis, abandoning himself by turns to his joy and his remorse, "I am your father and I have made you unhappy."

"Finish this letter, seigneur," said Julia, "there is something there which concerns your confidant."

The marquis saw some lines added by Estrelle's hand and read,--

I have no relations; my daughter will be presented to you by a worthy friend in whom I have every confidence, and who goes to Paris under a fictitious name to try to obtain some information about a son who has dishonored him. I have confided to him the fortune which I have left Blanche; my daughter needs nothing but her father's friendship, but if he repulses her, the old Touquet will take his place.

"Touquet," cried the marquis, looking at the barber.

The latter appeared thunderstruck. He looked at the letter, a cold sweat stood out on his forehead; he could not utter a word.

"Yes," said Julia, "yes, unhappy wretch, it was your father who came to your house with Blanche, whom he was taking to the marquis; he had taken the name of Moranval, no doubt, that he might be more likely to get news of his son in Paris. Perhaps he even knew in whose house he was taking lodgings. Answer, wretch, how did you treat that traveller?"

"Do not question me," said the barber, walking wildly about the room, "I am a monster. Do not come near me; I have murdered my father!"

"And for ten years you have deprived me of my daughter," cried the marquis, starting from Touquet with horror. "You were about to make me the most guilty of men, your horrible counsels were thrusting me to a crime--wait, wretch, and receive the price of all your misdeeds."

The marquis seized one of the pistols which were on the desk and directed it towards Touquet. The shot sped, and Julia looked coldly on, as the barber fell at her feet.

"That death was too kind for you," said the marquis, "but, thanks to Heaven, I have not committed the last crime. O my dear Blanche, you are my daughter; that was the cause of the secret feeling which pled for you. I will make you happy, and you shall forget my unworthy love; henceforth, it is only a father who presses you in his arms."

The marquis left the room followed by Julia. He did not walk, he flew towards the tower inhabited by Blanche. As he approached, his voice, calling Blanche, woke the echoes. They reached the door of the room, which was locked on the inside; the marquis, who had not taken his keys, knocked and reknocked, calling Blanche and begging her to open. Nobody answered, but presently a sound reached the marquis' ears, which seemed to be caused by the fall of some object in the waters of the lake. Villebelle experienced a sensation which he could not define; he ran and called Germain, obtained his keys and entered Blanche's apartment; it was empty, and everything announced that the young girl had not gone to bed; but one of the windows looking on the lake was open. Led by a secret presentiment, the marquis went on to the balcony. His eyes searched the lake, and he called again,--

"Blanche, my daughter."

Nobody answered, but an object showed at intervals on the surface of the lake, and seemed to move.

"It is she," cried Villebelle, and immediately jumped into the lake. It was indeed the unfortunate Blanche, who, since the scene of the preceding night, expecting at every moment some new attempt on the part of the marquis, had not tasted a moment's rest. She had not gone to bed, fearing to be surprised in her sleep, and watched trembling, believing at the slightest noise, that her abductor was about to appear. Blanche had decided to die rather than cease to be worthy of Urbain. On hearing hasty steps approaching her room, and recognizing Villebelle's voice calling her loudly, a most violent terror had seized her; and not doubting but that he had come to accomplish his infamous purpose, she had thrown herself into the lake, pronouncing Urbain's name.

The marquis swam towards the object which he perceived in the water, but another person who had been in the park, had also thrown himself into the lake. It was Urbain, who, certain that his sweetheart was in the chateau, had profited by the night to introduce himself into the gardens. The young bachelor had heard Blanche's sweet voice uttering his name, then a sudden sound caused him to look towards the lake and he had flown to the help of the unfortunate girl, with whom he had at length reached the brink; where presently he was joined by the marquis, Julia, and the people of the chateau, attracted by their master's shouts. Blanche was stretched on the grass, while Urbain on his knees beside her called her loudly, when the marquis came running in the greatest despair and threw himself on the ground, supplicating Heaven to give him back his daughter.

"His daughter?" cried all those around him.

"Yes," said Villebelle, gazing on Blanche's discolored features with despair, "yes, it is my daughter, my child, whom I have made unhappy, whose death I have caused. Ah, I would have given all my fortune to kiss Estrelle's daughter, to hear her call me father, and by my passions, my vices, I am deprived of my greatest treasure. Oh, my dear Blanche, return to life; before death closes your mouth, tell me, at least, that you will forgive me. But no, I shall not have even that last consolation; she is dead without having once called me father."

The marquis threw himself on the body of his daughter, which Urbain watered with his tears; he took Blanche's hands and held them against his heart, seeking to rewarm them, to reanimate them, but all efforts were vain. Blanche could no longer hear her father's cries, nor the sobs of her lover.

End of Project Gutenberg's The Barber of Paris, by Charles Paul de Kock