"But this young man is as good as married,--he won't have you! He says nothing would induce him to have you!" he fairly shouted in Ernestine's ear. "His marriage is to take place very shortly."
"Yes, thank God, there is no further obstacle to that marriage now,"
cried Ernestine, "so I thank you once again, M. de la Rochaigue. I thank you with all my heart, and I shall never, never forget what you have done for me."
Fortunately the hunchback now came to the rescue of the unfortunate baron, who really felt as if his poor brain was about to burst.
"I promised you the answer to the enigma, you remember, my dear baron,"
said M. de Maillefort.
"I think it is time, quite time for you to give it, then, marquis. If you do not, I believe I shall go mad. There is a strange buzzing in my ears, my head feels as if it would split, there are specks floating before my eyes--and--"
"Well, then, listen to me. This morning your ward declared that she would not marry anybody but M. Olivier Raymond, and that the happiness of her life depended upon it, did she not?"
"You certainly are not going to begin that all over again?" exclaimed M.
de la Rochaigue, stamping his foot angrily.
"Have a little patience, baron. I told you afterwards that all the good you had heard in relation to M. Olivier Raymond was nothing in comparison with what you would soon discover for yourself."
"Well, what have I discovered?"
"Is the disinterestedness which you yourself were obliged to admire nothing? To refuse the richest heiress in France to fulfil a promise of marriage previously made to a penniless young girl--is not such conduct as that--?"
"Admirable, commendable, worthy of all praise," exclaimed the baron. "I know all that! But I repeat that I shall go stark staring mad if you don't explain why this refusal, which should fill you and my ward with dismay and consternation, seems to delight you beyond measure,--that is, if you are still anxious for Ernestine to marry Olivier."
"I certainly am."
"Well, I'd like to know how you are going to bring it about, for his heart seems to be set upon marrying the other girl."
"And that is precisely what pleases us so much," said the hunchback.
"Delights us, you mean," corrected Ernestine.
"It delights you because he is determined to marry another girl?"
exclaimed the baron, positively furious now.
"Yes, but you see this other girl is she!" explained the marquis.
"She--and who is she?" shouted the baron.
"Your ward."
"But the other girl is my ward."
"Certainly," replied Ernestine, triumphantly, "I am the other girl."
"Yes, baron, the other girl, I tell you, is she, your ward."
"Yes, she is Ernestine," added Herminie.
"It is all perfectly clear now, you see," remarked the marquis.
On hearing this explanation, which was even more incomprehensible to him than what had gone before, the unfortunate baron cast a half frantic glance around him, then, closing his eyes, said to the hunchback, in despairing tones:
"M. de Maillefort, you seem to be absolutely pitiless. I have as strong a mind as anybody else, I think, but it is incapable of unravelling such a mystery as this. You promised to give me the answer to this beastly enigma, but the answer is even more incomprehensible than the enigma itself."
"Come, come, my dear baron, calm yourself, and listen to me."
"I have been listening to you for a quarter of an hour or more," groaned the baron, "and yet I am very much worse off than I was in the beginning."
"Well, well, everything shall be made plain now," said the marquis, soothingly.
"Proceed, then, I beg of you."
"Very well, then, these are the facts of the case: Through a combination of circumstances which will be explained later on, and which have no special bearing on the subject now under consideration, your ward met M.
Olivier and passed herself off to him as a poor orphan girl, who was supporting herself by her needle. Do you understand thus far, baron?"
"Yes, I understand thus far. What next?"
"Well, by reason of other circumstances with which you will soon be made conversant, your ward and M. Olivier fell in love with each other, he still supposing Mlle. de Beaumesnil to be a friendless and penniless orphan, and so unhappy in her home relations that he felt that he was, and in fact was, exceedingly generous in offering to marry her when he was made an officer."
"In short," exclaimed the baron, straightening himself up to his full height, and speaking in triumphant tones,--"in short, Ernestine and the other young girl are simply one and the same person."
"Precisely," responded the hunchback.
"And so," continued the baron, wiping the perspiration which his Herculean mental efforts had produced from his brow,--"and so you wished to find out if Olivier loved the other, the poor girl, enough to resist, for her sake, the temptation to marry the richest heiress in France?"
"Exactly, baron."
"Hence your romantic story that Mlle. de Beaumesnil had seen Olivier during his stay at the chateau and had fallen in love with him."
"It was necessary to find some plausible excuse for the proposal you were commissioned to make to him. This story furnished it, and I must say that you played your part admirably. And M. Olivier,--well, was I wrong in assuring you that M. Olivier Raymond was the soul of honour?"
"He is, indeed!" exclaimed the baron. "Listen, marquis. I am not inclined to revert to the past, but I admit that I considered this a very unsuitable marriage for my ward. Ah, well, now I distinctly assert, affirm, and declare that, after what I have just seen and heard, if my ward were my own daughter, I should say to her: 'Marry M. Raymond, by all means. You could not make a better choice.'"
"Ah, monsieur, I shall never forget those words!" cried Ernestine.
"But this is not all, my dear baron."
"What else can there be, pray?" demanded M. de la Rochaigue, uneasily, evidently fearing a fresh imbroglio.
"This test had a twofold object. M. Olivier's extreme sensitiveness in pecuniary matters is so well known to his friends that we feared when he discovered that the young girl whom he thought so poor was really Mlle.
de Beaumesnil, he, being only a young lieutenant without either rank or fortune, would absolutely refuse to marry the richest heiress in France, though he had loved her and asked her to be his wife, when he believed her absolutely penniless."
"Such scruples on his part would not surprise me in the least," said the baron. "The fellow is so proud, the slightest hint that he might be considered a fortune-hunter would infuriate him. And now I think of it, the obstacle you fear still exists."
"No, my dear baron."
"But why not?"