On seeing M. de la Rochaigue thus reappear near the sofa where she had sat during her conversation with M. de Maillefort, the baroness exclaimed:
"What, monsieur, were you there?"
"Certainly, for suspecting that your interview with M. de Maillefort would prove exceedingly interesting as soon as you two were left alone together, I slipped into the little salon, and have been listening there behind the portieres close to you."
"You heard what that detestable marquis said, then?"
"Yes, madame, and I also noticed that you were so weak as to ask him to come again, instead of giving him plainly to understand that his presence here was no longer desired. You had a fine opportunity to do it, and you should have availed yourself of it."
"But, monsieur, is not the Marquis de Maillefort as dangerous in one place as another? He made me understand that very plainly; besides, one can not treat a man of M. de Maillefort's lineage and importance in a rude manner."
"What do you suppose would happen if you did?"
"This: the marquis would undoubtedly demand satisfaction of you for such an insult. Are you not aware that he has fought a number of duels, all of which resulted disastrously for his opponents, and have you not heard that only a few days ago he forced M. de Mornand to fight merely on account of an ill-timed jest in which the latter indulged?"
"But I, madame, am not as obliging and simple as M. de Mornand. I would not have fought."
"Then, M. de Maillefort would have made your life a burden by his sneers and ridicule, until you would have been compelled to hide yourself from very shame."
"But are there no laws to protect a man from such a monster? Ah, if I were in the Chamber of Peers such scandalous proceedings should not go unpunished! An honest man should not be at the mercy of the first cutthroat that happens to come along!" exclaimed the indignant baron.
"But in heaven's name, what is the matter with him,--what does this damned marquis want, anyhow?"
"You must have very little penetration, monsieur, for he certainly talked with almost brutal frankness, it seemed to me. Others would have resorted to circumlocution and even falsehood, but M. de Maillefort?--no, 'You intend to marry off Mlle. de Beaumesnil,' he says.
'I intend to see in what manner and to whom you marry her, and if your choice does not please me I shall interfere.' This is what he had the audacity to say to me, and he is in a position to carry out his threat."
"Fortunately, Ernestine seems to have taken an intense dislike to this horrid hunchback, and Helena must tell her that he was the mortal enemy of the countess."
"What good will that do? Suppose we should find a party that suited us and Ernestine, isn't the marquis, by his sneers and sarcasms, quite capable of inspiring the innocent girl with an aversion for the very person we want her to marry? And it is not only here, in this house, that he can play us this shameful trick,--and many others that he is capable of concocting,--but he can do it anywhere and everywhere he meets Ernestine, for we cannot hide her. We shall be obliged to take her out into society."
"Is it this that you fear most? I should be of the same opinion, perhaps, if--"
"Do you suppose I know what I fear? I would a hundred times rather have some real danger to contend with, no matter how threatening it might be, for then I should at least know what the danger was, and perhaps contrive to escape it, while now the marquis will keep us in a state of perplexity that may cause us to commit a thousand blunders, and hamper us in every way. Consequently there is nothing for us to do but look the situation straight in the face and say to ourselves: 'Here is a man of wonderful discernment and diabolical cleverness, who sees, or will endeavour to see and know, all that we do, and who, unfortunately, has a thousand means of attaining his ends, while we have no means whatever of escaping his surveillance.'"
"I am more and more convinced that the opinion I expressed a short time ago is a just and correct one," said the baron, complacently.
"What opinion?"
"That the marquis is an abominable scoundrel."
"Good evening, monsieur," said Madame de la Rochaigue, wrathfully, starting towards the door.
"What, you are going like that when we are in such desperate straits, and without coming to any decision!"
"Decision about what?"
"Why, about what we shall do in the matter."
"I know one thing!" exclaimed Madame de la Rochaigue, completely beside herself, and stamping her foot angrily, "this abominable hunchback has demoralised me completely, and you--you finish by utterly stupefying me with your asinine remarks."
And Madame de la Rochaigue flounced out of the room, slamming the door violently in the baron's very face.
During the conversation between Madame de la Rochaigue and M. de Maillefort, Helena had taken Mlle. de Beaumesnil back to her own room.
As she was about to leave the young girl she said:
"Sleep well, my dear Ernestine, and pray to the Saviour that he will not allow the face of that frightful M. de Maillefort to trouble your dreams."
"I really don't know why it is, mademoiselle, but he almost terrifies me."
"The feeling is very natural," replied the devotee, gently; "more natural than you suppose, for if you knew--"
As Helena paused, the young girl said:
"You did not finish, mademoiselle."
"There are some things which it pains one to say against one's neighbour, even though he may deserve it," remarked the devotee, with a saintly air. "This M. de Maillefort--"
"Well, mademoiselle?"
"I am afraid of paining you, my dear Ernestine--"
"Go on, I beg of you, mademoiselle."
"Ah, well, as you insist, I am compelled to tell you that this Marquis de Maillefort has always been one of your mother's bitterest enemies."
"My mother's?" cried Mlle. de Beaumesnil, wonderingly.
Then she added, with touching navete:
"Some one must have deceived you, mademoiselle. My mother could not have had any enemies."
In a tone of tender commiseration, Helena replied, shaking her head:
"My dear child, such artlessness does your heart credit; but, alas! the best and most inoffensive people are exposed to the animosity of the wicked. Have not the gentle lambs ravening wolves for enemies?"
"But how had my mother ever wronged M. de Maillefort, mademoiselle?"
asked Ernestine, with tears in her eyes.
"Why, in no way. Just Heaven! one might as well say that an innocent dove would attack a tiger."
"Then what was the cause of M. de Maillefort's animosity?"
"Alas! my poor child, I cannot tell you that. It would be too revolting--too horrible," answered Helena, sighing heavily.
"Then I have good cause to loathe this man, and yet I blamed myself for yielding to my involuntary aversion."
"Ah, my dearest child, may you never have a less justifiable aversion,"
said the devotee, sanctimoniously, lifting her eyes heavenward.