"He is feeling better, for he and I just had a fine dispute about his monster. And then your return, why, it is worth more to him than all the medicines in the world, and when I think that but for you that frightful Bouffard might have turned us out in three or four days! And Heaven knows that our belongings wouldn't have brought much, for our six tablespoons and the commander's watch went when he was ill three years ago."
"My good Mother Barbancon, don't talk of that, or you will drive me mad, for when my furlough is over I shall not be here, and what happened to-day may happen again at any time. But I won't even think of it. It is too terrible!"
The commander's bell rang, and on hearing the sound the housekeeper said to the young man, whose face wore an almost heart-broken expression:
"That is the commander ringing. For heaven's sake don't look so sad, M.
Olivier; he will be sure to suspect something."
"You needn't be afraid of that. But, by the way, Gerald is sure to call this morning. You must let him in."
"All right, M. Olivier. Go to the commander at once, and I will soon have your breakfast ready. Dear me, M. Olivier," she continued, with a sigh, "can you be content with--"
"My dear, good woman," cried the young soldier, without allowing her to finish, "don't I always have enough? Aren't you always depriving yourself of something to give it to me?"
"Hush! Monsieur is ringing again. Hasten to him at once!"
And Olivier obeyed.
CHAPTER XXV.
MATRIMONIAL INTENTIONS DISCLOSED.
At the sight of Olivier, the commander's features assumed a joyful expression, and, not being able to rise from his armchair, he held out both hands to his nephew, saying:
"Good morning, my boy."
"Good morning, uncle."
"I feel strongly inclined to scold you."
"Me, uncle?"'
"Certainly. Though you only returned yesterday you were off this morning almost before sunrise. I woke quite early, happy in the thought that I was not alone, as I have been for two months past. I glance over at your bed, but no Olivier is to be seen. You had already flown."
"But, uncle--"
"But, my boy, you have cheated me out of nearly two months of your leave already. A hitch in your master mason's business matters, you told me.
So be it; but now, thanks to the earnings of these two months, you must be almost a millionaire, so I intend to enjoy your society from this on.
You have earned plenty of money. As it is for me that you are always working, I cannot prevent you from making me presents, and Heaven only knows what you are plotting to do with your millions this very minute, M. Croesus; but I tell you one thing, if you leave me as much of the time alone as you did before you went away, I will not accept another present from you. I swear I will not!"
"But, uncle, listen to me--"
"You have only two more months to spend with me, and I am determined to make the most of them. What is the use of working as you do? Do you suppose that, with a manager like Mother Barbancon, my purse is not always full? Only two or three days ago I said to her: 'Well, Madame Steward, how are we off for funds?' 'You needn't worry about that, monsieur,' she replied; 'when one has more than one spends, there is a plenty.' I tell you that a cashier who answers like that is a comfort."
"Oh, well, uncle," said Olivier, anxious to put an end to this embarrassing conversation, "I promise that I will leave you as little as possible henceforth. Now, one thing more, do you feel able to see Gerald this morning?"
"Why, of course. What a kind and loyal heart that young duke has! When I think that during your absence he came here again and again to see me, and smoke his cigar with me! I was suffering the torments of the damned, but somehow he managed to make me feel ever so much more comfortable.
'Olivier is away,' he said to me, 'and it is my business to look after you.'"
"My good Gerald!" murmured Olivier, deeply moved.
"Yes, he is good. A young man of his position, who leaves his pleasures, his sweethearts, and friends of his own age, to come and spend two or three hours with an old cripple like me, proves conclusively that he has a good heart. But I'm not a conceited fool, I know very well that it was on your account that Gerald came to see me, my dear nephew, and because he knew it would give you pleasure."
"No, no, uncle. It was for your sake, and for yours alone, believe me!"
"Hum!"
"He will tell you so himself, presently, for he wrote yesterday to ask if he would find us at home this morning."
"Alas! he is only too certain to find me; I cannot budge from my armchair. You see the melancholy proof of that," added the old sailor, pointing to his dry and weedy flower borders. "My poor garden is nearly burnt up. Mamma Barbancon has been too busy to attend to it; besides, my illness seems to have put her all out of sorts. I suggested asking the porter to water the flowers every day or two; but you should have heard how she answered me. 'Bring strangers into the house to steal and destroy everything!' You know what a temper the good woman has, and I dared not insist, so you can see what a terrible condition my poor flowers are in."
"Never mind, uncle; I am back now, and I will act as your head gardener," said Olivier, gaily. "I have thought of it before, and if I had not been obliged to go out early this morning on business, you would have found your garden all weeded, and fresh as a rose sparkling with dew when you woke this morning. But to-morrow morning,--well, you shall see!"
The commander was about to thank Olivier when Madame Barbancon opened the door and asked if M. Gerald could come in.
"I should say he could come in!" exclaimed the old naval officer, gaily, as Olivier advanced to meet his friend.
"Thank heaven! his master mason has returned him to us at last,"
exclaimed the veteran, pointing to Olivier.
"Hopeless chaos seemed to reign in the worthy man's estimates," replied Olivier, "and when they were at last adjusted, the manager of the property, struck by my fine handwriting and symmetrical figures, asked me to straighten out some accounts of his, and I consented. But now I think of it, do you know, Gerald, who owns the magnificent chateau in which I spent the last two months?"
"I haven't the slightest idea."
"Well, the Marquise of Carabas."
"What Marquise of Carabas?"
"The enormously wealthy heiress you were talking to us about before I went away."
"Mlle. de Beaumesnil?" exclaimed Gerald, in profound astonishment.
"The same. This magnificent estate belongs to her and yields her a yearly income of twenty thousand livres; and it seems that she has dozens of such properties."
"What the devil can one do with so much money?" exclaimed the veteran.
"It is certainly a strange coincidence," murmured Gerald, thoughtfully.
"And why?"
"Because there is a possibility of my marrying Mlle. de Beaumesnil."
"Indeed, M. Gerald," said the veteran, artlessly, "so a desire to marry has seized you since I saw you last?"
"So you are in love with Mlle. de Beaumesnil?" asked Olivier, no less navely.