Collected works of eugen.., p.993
Collected Works of Eugène Sue, page 993
After a moment’s silence, De Chemerant said to the adventurer:
“Do you know, your highness, the game of the poisoned shoulder-knot?” The Gascon looked at the envoy with surprise. “Is this a pleasantry, sir?”
“I would not take such a liberty, your highness,” said De Chemerant, bending his head.
“Then, sir, what connection — —”
“Permit me, your highness, to explain to you what this game is, and by the aid of this figure, I shall perhaps be able to also explain to your highness the fortunes of the state secret.
“Explain this figure, sir.”
“Well, the game of the poisoned shoulder-knot consists in this: a circle of men and women is made; one man takes one of the shoulder-knots from his coat and seeks to slip it into his neighbor’s pocket as secretly as possible, for the person who is found in possession of it is obliged to give a forfeit.”
“Very well, sir,” said the Gascon, “the skill of the play resolves itself into getting rid as soon as possible of the shoulder-knot, by passing it, adroitly, on to another.”
“There you have it, your highness.”
“But I do not see what connection there is between the state secret which concerns me and this game.”
“Pardon me, sir, to some consciences, at once scrupulous and timid, certain confidences, or rather certain confessions, have the same effect as the poisoned shoulder-knot in the play of that name; the aforesaid consciences think only of getting rid of the secret to a neighboring conscience in order to protect themselves from all responsibility.”
“Well, sir, I see the analogy; it seems that the game of the poisoned shoulder-knot has been played with the confessor of this unhappy Chevalier de Crussol.”
“That is just what happened, your highness. Father Griffen, seeing himself the depository of such an important state secret, found himself terribly embarrassed; he feared to commit a culpable action toward his sovereign in keeping silent; he feared by speaking to violate the seal of the confessional and to ruin you. In this quandary, and desiring to quiet his conscience, he resolved to go to France, to confess all to the general of his order, and to thus free himself of all responsibility.”
“I understand, now, your comparison, sir; but as this secret has been noised abroad, it necessarily follows that, in order to carry out your comparison, some one has cheated.”
“I can assure your highness that it is many months since Father Griffen, after his resolution had been taken, arrived in France and confided all to the general of the order; he, in turn, took all the responsibility upon himself, and completely absolved Father Griffen, recommending to him the greatest secrecy.”
“And to whom the devil did the general of the order pass the shoulder-knot?” said the Gascon, who was much amused by this story.
“Before answering your highness, I must say that the general of the order concealed beneath an austere exterior a most unbridled ambition; that few men possessed to so high a degree the genius for intrigue; or played more audaciously with what the world reveres. Once master of the important secret that Father Griffen had confided to him, as his spiritual superior, in order to quiet his conscience, the general of the order desired to use this secret for his own personal advancement. Intimately linked with the confessor of his majesty, King James, Father Briars, a cunning Jesuit, who understood perfectly the condition of affairs in England, he led the conversation one day to the location of this island, and the general of the order asked Father Briars if, in case you had been still living, your highness, you would not have many opportunities for rallying about you the partisans of the Stuarts, and thus placing yourself at the head of a movement against the Prince of Orange. Father Briars replied that if you had lived your influence would have been immense, if you were sincerely devoted to the cause of King James; that this prince had often regretted your death, when thinking of the services you could have rendered to the cause of the Stuarts. You can imagine, your highness, the joy of the general of the order. The secret of the confessional was betrayed, your highness, and your existence revealed.
“But this is an abominable man, this general of the order,” cried Croustillac.
“Doubtless, sir; but he was ambitious to wear the cardinal’s hat; and as the prime mover of the enterprise, he would be a prince of the church if King James, your uncle, ascended the throne of England. It is unnecessary to tell you, sir, that once Father Briars was master of this secret, he availed himself of it with his royal penitent, and that the remainder of the arrangements were converted between Louis XIV. and James Stuart.”
“All is clear now,” said Croustillac to himself. “I am not surprised at the uneasiness of Father Griffen when I persisted in going to Devil’s Cliff. Knowing the secret of the place, he doubtless, believed me to be a spy. I can now understand the questions with which he overwhelmed me during our journey, and which seemed so absurd.”
Monsieur de Chemerant attributed to astonishment the silence of Croustillac at this recital, and he said, “Now all should be clear to you. Without doubt, the preparations of this enterprise have not been so secret that William of Orange has not been kept posted by spies who gained entrance into the cabinet at Versailles, and even into the inner circle of the lesser court at Saint Germain. In order to baffle the projects which rest entirely upon your highness, the usurper has given to Colonel Rutler the mission which came so near being fatal to you, your highness. You see, then, in all this Father Griffen has been perfectly innocent. Some one has abused his confidence most sacrilegiously; but, after all, sir, you must exercise forbearance, for it is to this discovery that you will have the glory, some day, of re-establishing James Stuart upon the throne of England.”
Although this confidence had satisfied the adventurer’s curiosity, he regretted having provoked it; if he was discovered, he would, no doubt, be made to pay dearly for his knowledge of this state secret, which he had involuntarily surprised; but Croustillac could not retrace his steps; he was to become more and more involved in the dangerous way wherein he walked. The escort arrived on the plain at the foot of the wall of the house. It was agreed that Rutler, still bound, should remain outside, and that six soldiers and two sailors should accompany Chemerant and Croustillac. On reaching the foot of the wall, the Gascon called, resolutely, “Ho, slaves!”
After waiting some moments, the ladder was lowered. The adventurer and De Chemerant, followed by their men, entered the house; the arched door used exclusively by Blue Beard was opened by Mirette. Chemerant ordered the six soldiers to remain outside the arch.
Mirette, instructed by her mistress, as to what she should do and say in response to questions, appeared struck with surprise at the sight of the Gascon, and exclaimed, “Ah, my lord!”
“You did not expect me? and Father Griffen?”
“What, my lord is it you?”
“Certainly it is I; but where is Father Griffen?”
“Learning that you were going away for some days, madame had ordered me to allow no one to enter.”
“But the reverend Father, who came here on my account — has he not seen your mistress?”
“No, my lord; madame told me to allow no one to enter, so the reverend priest has been shown to a room in the outer building.”
“Then your mistress is not expecting my return?”
“No, my lord; but — —”
“It is well; leave us.”
“But, my lord, I will go and inform Madame de — —”
“No, it is no matter; I will go myself,” said the Gascon, passing before Mirette and walking toward the drawing room.
“Your highness, you are about to give a pleasant surprise to the duchess, who does not expect you for some days, and will thus change her regrets to a very tender joy, since Father Griffen has not yet been able to see your wife,” said De Chemerant.
“She is always thus, poor dear child, she is very timid; when I am not here,” said Croustillac, tenderly, “she will not see a human face, not even this good priest; my shortest absence causes her sadness, desolation and tears; this is what worries me; all this is very simple; since I have been condemned to this absolute retirement I have never left my wife, and this absence to-day, short as she believes it to be, is terribly hard for her, poor, dear soul.”
“But then, your highness, what a delightful surprise! If your highness will permit me to advise, I will promise to persuade the duchess to leave this night, for you know, our enterprise cannot succeed except it be by a very rapid move.”
“My wish also is to carry away my wife as soon as possible.”
“This hasty journey will unfortunately cause the duchess some inconveniences.”
“She will not think so, sir; it concerns following me,” said Croustillac, with a triumphant manner.
Monsieur de Chemerant and the adventurer reached the little gallery which gave entrance to the drawing room of Blue Beard. As we have said, this room was separated from the drawing room only by portières; a thick Turkish carpet covered the floor.
Monsieur de Chemerant and Croustillac approached the inner room noiselessly, when they suddenly heard peals of laughter. The chevalier recognized the voice of Angela, and, seizing the hand of De Chemerant, he said in a low voice, “It is my wife — listen.”
“The duchess appears to me less overcome than your highness believed.”
“Perhaps, sir; there are sobs, you know, which in their violence have something of the sound of convulsive laughter. Do not move; I wish to surprise her in the abandon of her grief,” said the Gascon, making a sign to his companion to remain motionless and to keep silent.
CHAPTER XXIV.
THE INTERVIEW.
IN ORDER TO explain the confidence of the Gascon, we must say that, having heard Mirette address him as master, he was fully persuaded that Blue Beard was on her guard, and that Monmouth was securely hidden. In spite of what the mulattress said, he was convinced, with reason, that Father Griffen had informed Angela that her supposed husband would come to see her. The situation was so grave that the priest, knowing all the mysteries of Devil’s Cliff, could not but have insisted on warning Blue Beard of the fresh peril which menaced her.
If Mirette had stated that Father Griffen had not seen Blue Beard, it was because it was in accord with her wishes that it should appear that he had not communicated with the inhabitants of Devil’s Cliff.
This explains at once what will seem contradictory in Croustillac’s conduct, and will answer the question “if he wished to take advantage of the name he had assumed, to carry off Blue Beard, why had he warned Father Griffen of his intention?”
Croustillac, having warned De Chemerant to be silent, advanced on tiptoe, to the half-drawn portière, and looked into the room, for the peals of laughter still continued. He had scarcely cast a glance into the room when he quickly turned toward De Chemerant; and with a distorted face and outraged manner said, “See and listen, sir! this is the reward of surprises. I had a presentiment when I sent Father Griffen here. By heavens! prudent husbands should be preceded by an escort of cymbals to announce their return!”
In spite of these ironical words, the features of Croustillac were convulsed; his whole physiognomy expressed a singular mixture of sorrow, anger and hatred.
Rapidly glancing into the room, De Chemerant, in spite of his assurance, lowered his eyes, colored, and for some moments remained perfectly overwhelmed with confusion.
Let one judge of the spectacle which caused the confusion of De Chemerant, and the rage, not feigned but sincere, even cruel, of Croustillac, who, as we have said, passionately loved Blue Beard, devoted himself generously for her, and was not in the secret of the prince’s different disguises.
Monmouth, in the disguise of the mulatto filibuster, Whirlwind, was negligently extended on a sofa; he was smoking a long pipe, the bowl of which rested on a low stand.
Angela, kneeling beside the latter, quickened the flame of the pipe with a long golden pin.
“Good! that is all right,” said Monmouth, whom we will call Whirlwind, during this scene. “My pipe is lighted, now for something to drink.”
Angela placed on a table a large Bohemian glass and a crystal carafe, and, going over to the divan, while the filibuster puffed several mouthfuls of tobacco, poured out a brimming glass of Muscatel wine and handed it to him with a charmingly graceful air.
The filibuster emptied it at a single draught, after which he kissed her roughly, saying, “Wine is good, and the woman is pretty; to the devil with the husband!”
Hearing these very significant words, De Chemerant wished to retire. Croustillac took hold of him and said, in a low tone, “Remain, sir, remain, I desire to surprise, to confound them, the miserable wretches!”
The face of Croustillac clouded more and more. The warning which he had given in begging Father Griffen to go and prepare Blue Beard that he was about to seek her, concealed a very praiseworthy and generous purpose, which we will explain later.
The sight of the filibuster exciting the adventurer’s jealousy into rage quickly changed his good intentions. He could not understand the audacity of this young woman. He could not be blind to the evidence of these familiarities on the part of the mulatto whom he had not yet seen. He remembered those, no less shocking, of the Caribbean and the buccaneer. He believed himself to be the dupe of a frightfully depraved creature; he believed that Monmouth, her husband, no longer existed or no longer lived at Devil’s Cliff; and if Angela had co-operated with himself (Croustillac) in his strategy, it was in order to rid herself of an awkward witness.
Furious at being thus deceived and played with, deeply wounded in a true love, Croustillac resolved to avenge himself without pity, and, this time, to really abuse the power his assumed name and the situation which he assumed with such honorable motives had given him. He said to De Chemerant, in a stifled voice, but with an expression of concentrated wrath, which entered admirably into the spirit of his rôle, “Not a word, sir; I wish to hear all, because I wish to punish both without mercy.”
“But, your highness — —”
An imperious gesture from Croustillac closed De Chemerant’s mouth; both of them gave an attentive ear to the conversation of Angela, and the filibuster, who, we must say, knew perfectly that they were overheard.
“At last, my beautiful child,” said Whirlwind, “you are free for a time at least.”
“If not forever,” said Blue Beard, smiling.
“Forever? what do you mean, you little demon,” returned the filibuster.
Angela arose and seated herself near the mulatto. While talking to him she passed her hand through his hair with a cajoling coquetry which put the unhappy Croustillac beside himself.
“Your highness, one word, and my men shall rid you of this scoundrel,” said De Chemerant, in an undertone, in pity for the Gascon.
“I shall know well how to avenge myself,” said the adventurer sullenly, who no longer desired to prolong the scene; and so, turning to De Chemerant, continued, “Sir, leave me alone with these two wretches.”
“But, your highness, this man appears strong and robust.”
“Be easy, I will give a good account of him.”
“If you will listen to me, your highness, we will leave at once; you will abandon to her remorse, a woman so unhappy as to thus forget her duty.”
“Leave her? No, my heavens! Willingly or otherwise, she shall follow me — that will be my revenge.”
“If your highness will permit me a remark: After a disclosure so scandalous, the sight of the duchess can only be forever odious to you. Let us go; forget such a guilty spouse; glory shall console you.”
“Sir, I desire to speak to my wife,” said Croustillac impatiently.
“But, your highness, this miserable — —”
“Once more, am I a man without courage and without force, that such a rascal should intimidate me? Some domestic scenes must be secret. Will you await me in the next room? In a quarter of an hour I will be with you.”
Croustillac said these words with an intonation so imperious, and with such an agonized manner, that De Chemerant bowed without persisting further. He went into a room the door of which the chevalier had opened, and which he immediately closed upon him.
Crossing the drawing room with quick steps, the adventurer entered suddenly into the room where the mulatto and Blue Beard were.
“Madame,” said the Gascon with sorrowful indignation, “your conduct is abominable.”
The mulatto, who was extended on the divan, arose quickly; he was about to speak; Angela with a glance begged him to do nothing. As much as Monmouth had generously desired to prevent the sacrifice of the chevalier when he believed this sacrifice disinterested, he was as much resolved not to make himself known when he believed the adventurer capable of an unworthy betrayal.
“Sir,” said Angela coldly, to the Gascon, “the French emissary may still overhear us; let us go into another room.”
She opened the door of Monmouth’s own room, and entered, followed by the filibuster and Croustillac. The door once closed, the adventurer cried: “I repeat that you have shamefully abused my trust in you.”
“I demand an explanation of your disloyal conduct,” said Angela proudly. “Explain yourself at once.”
During this scene, Monmouth, gravely preoccupied, walked up and down the room with his arms folded, his eyes fixed on the carpet.
“You desire that I explain myself, madame? Oh, that will not take long! First know that, right or wrong, I love you,” cried Croustillac, in a burst of tenderness and anger.
“That is to say, that you have boasted to your fellow-travelers that you would marry the rich widow of Devil’s Cliff?”
“So be it, madame; on board the Unicorn my language was impertinent, my pretensions absurd, madame; covetous, I admit. But when I spoke thus, when I thought thus, I had not seen you.”
“The sight of me, sir, has not inspired you with ideas much more honorable,” said Angela severely, still convinced that Croustillac wished to cruelly abuse the position in which he found himself.
