Part 23

"Monsieur," Léodgard replied, struggling to surmount his suffering, "I should comply with monsieur le cardinal's wish with the greatest zeal, but it is impossible at this moment; I cannot move--I am wounded!"

"Wounded!" exclaimed the officer; and his expression lost all its amenity; "oho! you are wounded, are you, monsieur le comte? And since when?"

"Since yesterday, monsieur."

"Since yesterday? May I inquire how you received this wound?"

"Under any other circumstances, I should refuse to reply, monsieur; but, after the circulation of such rumors, I realize that it is my duty to speak. I fought a duel yesterday, with pistols, in Vincennes Forest.--I know the severity of the laws concerning duels, and I desired to keep this secret, to conceal my wound. I waited until night before returning here."

"Very good, monsieur le comte; pardon me if I ask you a few questions. With whom did you fight?"

"Monsieur, I have delivered myself over to the cardinal's wrath, but I will not denounce my opponent."

"The names of your seconds at least, monsieur le comte?"

Léodgard let his head fall back; his strength seemed to abandon him, and he made no reply. Thereupon Jarnonville rose and placed himself in front of the officer.

"Cease tormenting the Comte de Marvejols, monsieur; he is suffering quite enough with his wound. You wish to know with whom he fought? Well, it was with me. Yes, monsieur, we quarrelled yesterday for a trivial cause; being both too hot-headed to wait until the next day, we went to Vincennes, and there, with no other witness than the sky, we fired at each other. I had the misfortune to wound the count severely in the shoulder. We became friends once more as soon as blood flowed, and we waited until it was very late before returning to Paris. This morning I had just come to inquire for my adversary when you appeared.--Now you know all, monsieur."

While Jarnonville was speaking, a gleam of joy illumined Léodgard's features, and he gave the chevalier a glance expressive of all his gratitude.

"Oh! that explains everything, monsieur le chevalier," said the officer; "and I beg monsieur le comte to accept my apologies. But I still have a painful duty to perform. You know the strict laws concerning duelling; we are ordered to arrest all those who have infringed them. You are both guilty. Because of his wound, I will leave monsieur le comte in his own house, where he will remain until further orders. As for you, Sire de Jarnonville, I cannot shirk the duty of escorting you at once before the cardinal-minister, who will decide your fate."

"'Tis well, monsieur; take me to the cardinal--I am ready to follow you."

The officer bowed and walked toward the door; while Jarnonville approached the wounded man, who said to him in a failing voice:

"Chevalier, you have saved the honor of my family! thanks! thanks a thousand times! May you not fall a victim to your noble sacrifice!--As for myself, I know my duty--within an hour I shall have ceased to live. Adieu! I do not ask you for your hand, for mine is sullied! But forgive me--for my wife's sake and my child's!"

Jarnonville, deeply moved, offered Léodgard his hand; but the officer said to him:

"I am waiting, Sire de Jarnonville;" and the chevalier hastened from the room, with a last glance at the wounded man.

When Léodgard was left alone, he looked about the room for several minutes with a vague, uncertain glance, until his eyes rested at last upon a small article of furniture in a recess; a gleam of satisfaction passed over his face, and he was about to ring, when a servant entered and said timidly:

"Pardon me, monsieur le comte, for entering the room without being summoned; but madame la comtesse is most desirous to see you; she is bringing mademoiselle."

"Very well; in one instant. First, open that cupboard yonder; the key is in the lock; that is right. In the left-hand drawer you will find a phial; give it to me."

The servant obeyed his master's orders, and brought him a small phial containing a yellowish liquid. Léodgard took it, examined it carefully, and placed it under his pillow, saying:

"Now, you may inform madame la comtesse that I am ready to receive her."

Bathilde was evidently waiting in an adjoining room, for she appeared almost instantly with Blanche, who ran to her father's bed, crying:

"Friend! papa! Blanche is very glad you came back. You sick; we are going to take care of you, like we did before. But then you won't go away any more, will you? you will stay with us?"

"No! oh, no! I shall not go away any more, darling girl!" replied Léodgard, motioning to Bathilde to place Blanche on the bed, so that he might kiss her. And in a moment he held her lovely face against his breast and covered her brow with kisses, while great tears escaped from his eyes, which had never wept.

Bathilde, profoundly moved, knelt beside the bed, murmuring:

"Dear Léodgard! it makes me so happy to see the love that you bear your child! Ah! do not doubt that we will both do our utmost to be worthy of your affection. To live with you will be the sweetest reward of our devotion of every instant, of our zeal to please you in everything."

"Thanks, Bathilde! Give me your hand, that I may press it.--Do you too come near, so that I may kiss your brow."

"O my dear! your lips are burning--your eyes seem more sunken--you are suffering more! Please let me send for the doctor?"

"Do nothing of the sort; I forbid it! In a little while I will rest, and that will cure me; I shall not suffer any more.--Blanche, my child, look at me again. Ah! how lovely you are! how proud we shall be of you! And you will be good, too; I can read it in your face. You love your mother--you will make her happy."

"You, too, papa--I love you, too, with all my heart."

Léodgard raised himself once more to embrace his daughter passionately; but a terrifying pallor overspread his features, and Bathilde cried:

"In heaven's name, do at least take some of that cordial that revived you last night!"

"Not now; I need nothing but rest. Adieu, Bathilde! adieu, my daughter!"

"No, not _adieu_, my dear, but _au revoir_! we will return soon."

"Wait until I ring.--Dear darling, go, and pray to the good Lord for me."

"Yes, papa; I will pray to have you get well very quick."

"My dear, if you will allow us to, we might stay with you; we would make no noise."

"Yes, papa, let me stay; I will be very good; I won't play."

"Not now--go; later, later, you may come again. Go, I beg you; leave me!"

Bathilde felt a heavy weight at her heart; she left her husband with profound regret; but she dared not disobey him. She took Blanche away, throwing kisses to her father; while he, surmounting his pain, succeeded in smiling at her once more.

Jarnonville and the officer arrived in due time at the palace occupied by the cardinal. No guards followed them, for the chevalier had given his word not to try to escape, and they knew that he would not break it. Having escorted Jarnonville to a reception room adjoining Richelieu's cabinet, the officer left him there while he went to notify his eminence. He returned in a few moments and informed his prisoner that the cardinal begged him to wait until he was at liberty.

The chevalier was left alone, and half an hour passed, during which he saw no one. But the time sped very quickly for him; for, having been deeply impressed by all the events which he had witnessed, and in which he now found himself playing an important part, he gave no thought to the risk he himself was running; he thought of the tears Bathilde would shed, of poor little Blanche, who would soon have no father; and he said to himself:

"But it must be so! Yes, he must cease to live; his death will not lessen his crimes, but it will make it possible to conceal them."

At last, a servant appeared and informed Jarnonville that the cardinal could receive him, and the chevalier was ushered into Richelieu's study.

The minister was alone; dressed in his red soutane, and pale, thin, fatigued by overwork. That fragile, ailing man, who made all Europe tremble, retained in his glance, instinct with fire and vivacity, all the youthful vigor that his body had lost.

Seated at his desk, examining reports, Richelieu toyed with a cat that lay on his knees, while two others played on a rug at his feet. When the Sire de Jarnonville entered, the cardinal raised his head, looked at him a few seconds, and said at last in a tone that bore no trace of anger:

"What is this that I hear, Sire de Jarnonville? That you have been fighting a duel with the Comte de Marvejols? Is that the truth?"

"Yes, monseigneur."

"But you must be familiar with the edicts concerning single combats. I have been compelled to put a curb upon this barbarous custom, this mania that men have for killing one another for an idle word! If I had not regulated the matter, the whole of the king's court would have taken the field!--You know, then, monsieur, that it is a capital offence?"

"I know it, monseigneur."

"And that did not stop you!--What motive had you, grave enough to induce you to defy the law?--Come, speak, chevalier. I thought that you were a friend to Comte Léodgard; you were his child's godfather, I believe."

"I acted in place of the old Marquis de Marvejols--that is true."

"You take a deep interest in the young countess--and you fight with her husband!--What was the cause of this duel?"

Jarnonville, who did not lie readily, especially when it was necessary to invent a long story, was considerably embarrassed beneath Richelieu's piercing gaze, and faltered:

"Sometimes, monseigneur, between two persons who meet often, a word too lightly spoken is enough.--Comte Léodgard is quick to take offence--and--and I myself lose my head sometimes."

While Jarnonville was seeking his phrases, the cardinal, who was watching him closely, glanced at the short, broad sword that hung at his belt. He frowned, and said, interrupting him:

"You have a peculiar sword there, chevalier?"

"This sword--ah, yes! I do not--er--wear it usually."

"I think not, for I have never seen it upon you. Whence have you it?"

"Why, I found it with other weapons--which belonged to my father."

"Ah! by the way, have you heard aught of the charges made by a young woman with respect to Comte Léodgard?"

"Not until this morning, monseigneur."

"You do not give credit to them, do you?"

"How can I do so, monseigneur, when I know that it was I who wounded the count, in a duel?"

"Very true. Let me look at this sword which came to you from your father; I am curious to examine it."

Jarnonville detached the weapon from his belt and handed it, in the scabbard, to Richelieu; but he unsheathed it, and read in gilt letters on the steel the name _Giovanni_. Without making a sign, the cardinal instantly replaced the sword in its scabbard, saying:

"Do you think that Comte Léodgard's wound is dangerous, Sire de Jarnonville?"

At that moment a clock on the mantel shelf struck twelve; the chevalier listened, then replied:

"The Comte de Marvejols no longer lives!"

"Do you think so?"

"I am certain, monseigneur."

The minister's expression became less stern. He returned the sword to Jarnonville, and said:

"In that case, all is for the best; one culprit is punished, and that is enough. As for you, chevalier, I pardon you, in spite of your duel--for, of course, you fought with the count, did you not?--But put this sword out of sight; break it, for it might compromise you. Go, chevalier; comfort a widow and protect an orphan, as you have protected the honor of the name they bear."

When Jarnonville returned to the Hôtel de Marvejols, he found everybody in tears. The countess, anxious about her husband, had disregarded his prohibition and returned to his side; she no longer found him living who had embraced their child a few moments before.

Ambroisine ran to meet the chevalier to give him this intelligence; Jarnonville pressed the girl's hand tenderly, as he replied:

"Let us think of nothing now but comforting your friend; time will do the rest; her child's love, your friendship, my devotion, will avail, I hope, to afford her many happy days."

Toward the close of this day, which had witnessed so many events, a girl prowling about the neighborhood of the Hotel de Marvejols learned at last that the Comte de Marvejols no longer existed. Thereupon her face lighted up, and, raising her eyes heavenward, she said to herself:

"I may hold my peace now; for Giovanni is avenged; and soon, I hope, I shall join him."

In the year following Bathilde's widowhood, Ambroisine became the wife of the Sire de Jarnonville, who, finding in the _belle baigneuse_ all the virtuous and estimable qualities of the mind, combined with physical beauty, did not hesitate to form a _mésalliance_, in order to possess them all.

It is said that the Chevalier de Passedix was seriously ill after his bath, and was thereby cured of his love for Miretta. When he met Bahuchet and Plumard again, he belabored them with the flat of Roland, then took them into his service once more as page and esquire; for by flattering the Gascon's amour propre, they were always able to obtain pardon for their rascalities.

Let us say a word more of that little angel, pretty Blanche, whose sweet words had taught that pure, sincere sentiment that led her father back to virtue.

She at least was happy.

All roses do not die in the bud.