"Really, marquis," exclaimed M. de la Rochaiguë, much amused, "you certainly do the honours of yourself with wonderful grace and wit."
"Then shout, 'Long live my hump!' my dear baron, for you little know what you – no, our party – will perhaps owe to it!"
"I – our party – owe anything to your – " the baron hesitated – "to your – to your gibbosity."
"Gibbosity is a remarkably well chosen word, baron. You were evidently born for the tribune, and, as I said before, you can be a deputy in less than a month if you choose."
"Once more may I beg you to explain, marquis."
"Nothing could be simpler. Be a deputy in my stead."
"You are jesting."
"Not at all. I should only make the Chamber laugh. You will hold it captive by your eloquence, and our party will consequently be much the gainer by the change. I will introduce you to three or four delegates who have been chosen by my constituents, and who really control the elections down there, and I am sure I shall have little or no difficulty in persuading them to accept you in my stead. I will write to them this afternoon; day after to-morrow they will be here, and by the following day everything will be settled."
"Really, marquis, I scarcely know whether I am awake or dreaming. You, whom I have hitherto regarded as a bitter enemy – "
"Only a 'Woman's Hatred,' you know – or, if you like it better, the 'Hatred of a Political Friend.'"
"It seems inconceivable."
"So even as I ruined your absurd plans for securing a peerage at the same time that I prevented you from marrying your ward to an unprincipled scoundrel, I now propose to make you a deputy, and at the same time secure your consent to her marriage with a worthy young man who loves her, and whom she loves in return."
On hearing this announcement, M. de la Rochaiguë moved uneasily in his chair, cast a suspicious look at the marquis, and answered, coldly:
"I have been your dupe, I see, M. le marquis; I fell into the trap like a fool."
"What trap, my dear baron?"
"Your pretended anger at the course my political aspirations had taken, your flattery, your proposal to make me a deputy in your stead, all conceal an ulterior motive. Fortunately, I divine it – I unmask it – I unveil it."
"You are sure to become Minister of Foreign Affairs, baron, if you manifest like perspicuity in political matters."
"A truce to pleasantries, monsieur."
"So be it, monsieur. You must believe one of two things: I am either mocking you by pretending to take your political aspirations seriously, or else I really see in you the stuff from which statesmen are made. It is for you to decide which of these hypotheses is the correct one. Now, to state the case simply but clearly, your ward has made an admirable choice, as I will prove to you. Consent to this marriage, and I will have you elected deputy. That is the bright side of the medal."
"Ah, there are two sides?" sneered the baron.
"Naturally. I have shown you the good side; this is the bad: You and your wife and sister have grossly abused the trust confided to you – "
"Monsieur – "
"Oh, I can prove it. All three of you have either favoured or been personally mixed up in the most abominable intrigues, of which Mlle. de Beaumesnil was to be the victim. I repeat that I have abundant proofs of this fact, and Mlle. de Beaumesnil herself will unite with me in exposing these nefarious schemes."
"And to whom do you propose to denounce us, if you please?"
"To the members of the family council which Mlle. de Beaumesnil will convoke at once. You can guess what the result of such a proceeding will be. Your appointment as guardian will be annulled, forthwith."
"We will see about that! We will see about that, monsieur!"
"You will certainly have an admirable chance to see about it. Now choose. Consent to this marriage and you are a deputy. Refuse your consent, there will be a frightful scandal; you will be deprived of your guardianship, and all your ambitious hopes will be blighted for ever!"
"Ah, you censure me for having desired to marry my ward in a way that might benefit me personally, and yet you – you propose to do the same thing you censure me for, yourself."
"There is not the slightest justice in your comparison, my dear sir. You were trying to marry your ward to a scoundrel; I want to marry her to an honourable man, and I offer you a certain price for your consent, because you have proved to me that it is necessary to give a certain price for your consent."
"And why, if the person you have selected for Mlle. de Beaumesnil is a suitable person?"
"The husband I have suggested, and that Mlle. de Beaumesnil desires, is a perfectly honourable man – "
"And his fortune, social position, etc., – these are all that can be desired, I suppose."
"He is a lieutenant in the army, without either name or fortune, but he is one of the bravest and most honest men I know. He loves Ernestine, and she loves him in return. What objection have you to offer?"
"What objection have I to offer? A mere nobody, whose only possessions are his cloak and sword, marry the richest heiress in France! Never. Do you hear me? Never will I consent to such an unequal marriage! M. de Mornand at least had a fair prospect of becoming a minister, an ambassador, or president of the Chamber, monsieur."
"So you see, baron, I was very wise to offer you a handsome price for your consent."
"But according to you, monsieur, in thus allowing myself to be influenced by motives of personal aggrandisement, I should be acting very – "
"Disgracefully. Still, that does not matter, provided Ernestine's happiness can be assured."
"And it is a person capable of an act you consider so dishonourable that you dare to propose to the electors of your district as their representative!" exclaimed the baron, triumphantly. "You would so abuse their confidence as to give them, as a representative of our party, a man who – "
"In the first place, the electors in question are a parcel of fools, my dear sir; besides, I do not interfere with their right of suffrage in the least. They imagine, because I am a marquis, that I should be just as fanatical a partisan of church and throne as their late deputy. They even told me that, in case of my refusal, they should consider it a favour if I would designate some other suitable person. I offer them as a candidate a man of their own party, perfectly capable of representing them. (It is not very high praise, my dear baron, to say that you are at least as gifted a man as their deceased deputy.) The rest is for you to decide, for I need not tell you that I was only jesting a few minutes ago when I said that your political sentiments and mine were identical. It was merely a means of paving the way to the offer which I have made, and which I reiterate. And now, you will, perhaps, ask me why, if I feel confident of my ability to compel you to resign your guardianship of Mlle. de Beaumesnil, I do not do it."
"I should like to ask you that very plain question, monsieur," responded the baron.
"My explanation will be very simple, my dear sir. It is because I do not believe there is, among the other persons to whom this guardianship is likely to be entrusted, any man with sense and heart enough to understand why the richest heiress in France might be permitted to marry a brave and honourable man without either rank or fortune. So, as I should have the same difficulty to contend with in another guardian, but not have the same effectual means of coercing him, perhaps, such a change might injure rather than aid my plans, besides ruining you irretrievably. Now reflect, and make your choice. I shall expect to see you at my house to-morrow morning, not later than ten o'clock."
And the marquis departed, leaving M. de la Rochaiguë in a state of painful perplexity.
CHAPTER XXIV
AN UNCONDITIONAL SURRENDER
Three days had elapsed since M. de Maillefort's interviews with Madame de Senneterre and M. de la Rochaiguë, and Herminie, alone in her pretty room, seemed a prey to the keenest anxiety; for every now and then she cast an impatient glance at the clock, or started at the slightest sound, or turned hastily towards the door.
In fact, one could discern in the face of the duchess an anxiety fully equal to that which she had experienced some time before, while in momentary expectation of the much dreaded M. Bouffard's coming.
And yet it was not a visit from M. Bouffard, but from M. de Maillefort, that caused the girl's agitation.
The flowers in the pretty little room had just been renewed, and the muslin curtains at the windows that overlooked the garden had been freshly laundered. These windows were open, but the green outside shutters were closed to keep out the glare.
After setting her house in order with scrupulous care, the duchess had evidently made an unusually careful toilet, for she had donned her best dress, a high-necked, black levantine, with chemisette and sleeves of dazzling whiteness. Her sole ornament was her magnificent hair, which gleamed like burnished gold in the sun-light, but never had her beauty seemed more noble and touching in its character, for, for some time past, her face had been paler, though her complexion had lost none of its dazzling clearness.
The duchess had just given another quick glance at the door, when she fancied she heard a footstep outside, near the window that overlooked the garden, and she was about to rise and satisfy her doubts, when the door opened, and Madame Moufflon ushered in M. de Maillefort.