Chapter 32
It struck two when Daniel jumped out of a carriage before No. 79 in Peletier Street, where the offices of the Pennsylvania Petroleum Company were now, and where Count Ville-Handry lived at present.
Never in his life had he felt so embarrassed, or so dissatisfied with himself. In vain had Papa Ravinet and Mrs. Bertolle brought up all possible arguments to convince him, that, with a woman like Sarah Brandon, all reprisals were fair; he would not be convinced.
Unfortunately, he could not refuse to go without risking the peace of his Henrietta, her confidence, and her whole happiness; so he went as bravely as he could.
A clerk whom he asked told him that the president was in his rooms,-- in the third story on the left. He went up. The maid who came to open the door recognized him. It was the same Clarissa who had betrayed him. When he asked for the count she invited him in. She took him through an anteroom, dark, and fragrant with odors from the kitchen; and then, opening a door, she said;--
"Please walk in!"
Before an immense table, covered with papers, sat Count Ville-Handry. He had grown sadly old. His lower lip hung down, giving him a painful expression of weakness of mind; and his watery eyes looked almost senile. Still his efforts to look young had not been abandoned. He was rouged and dyed as carefully as ever. When he recognized Daniel, he pushed back his papers; and offering him his hand, as if they had parted the day before, he said,--
"Ah, here you are back again among us! Upon my word, I am very glad to see you! We know what you have been doing out there; for my wife sent me again and again to the navy department to see if there were any news of you. And you have become an officer of the Legion of Honor! You ought to be pleased."
"Fortune has favored, me, count."
"Alas! I am sorry I cannot say as much for myself," replied the latter with a sigh.
"You must be surprised," he continued, "to find me living in such a dog's kennel, I who formerly-- But so it goes. 'The ups and downs of speculations,' says Sir Thorn. Look here, my dear Daniel, let me give you a piece of advice: never speculate in industrial enterprises! Nowadays it is mere gambling, furious gambling; and everybody cheats. If you stake a dollar, you are in for everything. That is my story, and I thought I would enrich my country by a new source of revenue. From the first day on which I emitted shares, speculators have gotten hold of them, and have crushed me, till my whole fortune has been spent in useless efforts to keep them up. And yet Sir Thorn says I have fought as bravely on this slippery ground as my ancestors did in the lists."
Every now and then the poor old man passed his hand over his face as if trying to drive away painful thoughts; and then he went on in a different tone of voice,--
"And yet I am far from complaining. My misfortunes have been the source of the purest and highest happiness for me. It is to them I owe the knowledge of the boundless devotion of a beloved wife; they have taught me how dearly Sarah loves me. I alone can tell what treasures are hid in that angelic heart, which they dared to calumniate. Ah! I think I can hear her now, when I told her one evening how embarrassed I had become in my finances.
"'To have concealed that from me!' she exclaimed,--'from me, your wife: that was wrong!' And the very next day she showed her sublime courage. She sold her diamonds to bring me the proceeds, and gave up to me her whole fortune. And, since we are living here, she goes out on foot, like a simple citizen's wife; and more than once I have caught her preparing our modest meals with her own hands."
Tears were flowing down the furrowed cheeks, leaving ghastly lines on the rouged and whitened surface.
"And I," he resumed in an accent of deepest despair,--"I could not reward her for such love and so many sacrifices. How did I compensate her for being my only consolation, my joy, my sole happiness in life! I ruined her; I impoverished her! If I were to die to- morrow, she would be penniless."
Daniel trembled.
"Ah, count," he exclaimed, "don't speak of dying! People like you live a hundred years." But the old man lowered his voice, and said,--
"You see, I have not told you all yet. But you are my friend; and I know I can open my heart to you. I did not have the--the-- cleverness to overcome all the restrictions which hamper this kind of business. I was imprudent, in spite of all Sir Thorn's warnings. To- morrow there will be a meeting of the stockholders; and, if they do not grant me what I shall have to ask of them, I may be in trouble. And, when a man calls himself Count Ville-Handry, rather than appear in a police-court--you know what I mean!"
He was interrupted by one of the clerks, who brought him a letter. He read it, and said,-- "Tell them I am coming."
Then, turning again to Daniel, he added,--
"I must leave you; but the countess is at home, and she would never forgive me if I did not take you in to present your respects to her. Come! But be careful and don't say a word of my troubles. It would kill her."
And, before Daniel could recover from his bewilderment, the count had opened a door, and pushed him into the room, saying,--
"Sarah, M. Champcey."
Sarah started up as if she had received an electric shock. Her husband had left them; but, even if he had been still in the room, she would probably not have been any more able to control herself.
"You!" she cried, "Daniel, my Daniel!"
And turning to Mrs. Brian, who was sitting by the window, she said,-- "Leave us."
"Your conduct is perfectly shocking, Sarah!" began the grim lady. But Sarah, as harshly as if she had been speaking to a servant, cut her short, saying,--
"You are in the way, and I beg you will leave the room."
Mrs. Brian did so without saying a word; and the countess sank into an arm-chair, as if overcome by a sudden good fortune which she was not able to endure, looking intensely at Daniel, who stood in the centre of the room like a statue.
She had on a simple black merino dress; she wore no jewelry; but her marvellous, fatal beauty seemed to be all the more dazzling. The years had passed over her without leaving any more traces on her than the spring breeze leaves on a half-opened rose. Her hair still shone with its golden flashes; her rosy lips smiled sweetly; and her velvet eyes caressed you still, till hot fire seemed to run in your veins.
Once before Daniel had been thus alone with her; and, as the sensations he then felt rose in his mind, he began to tremble violently. Then, thinking of his purpose in coming here, and the treacherous part he was about to act, he felt a desire to escape.
It was she who broke the charm. She began, saying,--
"You know, I presume, the misfortunes that have befallen us. Your betrothed, Henrietta? Has the count told you?"
Daniel had taken a chair. He replied,--
"The count has said nothing about his daughter."
"Well, then, my saddest presentiments have been fulfilled. Unhappy girl! I did what I could to keep her in the right way. But she fell, step by step, and finally so low, that one day, when a ray of sense fell upon her mind, she went and killed herself."
It was done. Sarah had overcome the last hesitation which Daniel still felt. Now he was in the right temper to meet cunning with cunning. He answered in an admirably-feigned tone of indifference,--
"Ah!"
Then, encouraged by the joyous surprise he read in Sarah's face, he went on,--
"This expedition has cost me dear. Count Ville-Handry has just informed me that he has lost his whole fortune. I am in the same category."
"What! You are"--
"Ruined. Yes; that is to say, I have been robbed,--robbed of every cent I ever had. On the eve of my departure, I intrusted a hundred thousand dollars, all I ever possessed, to M. de Brevan, with orders to hold it at Miss Henrietta's disposal. He found it easier to appropriate the whole to himself. So, you see, I am reduced to my pittance of pay as a lieutenant. That is not much."
Sarah looked at Daniel with perfect amazement. In any other man, this prodigious confidence in a friend would have appeared to her the extreme of human folly; in Daniel, she thought it was sublime.
"Is that the reason why they have arrested M. de Brevan?" she asked. Daniel had not heard of his arrest.
"What!" he said. "Maxime"--
"Was arrested last night, and is kept in close confinement."
However well prepared Daniel was by Papa Ravinet's account, he could never have hoped to m