"Farewell, Herminie, farewell," said Mlle. de Beaumesnil. "I shall soon see you again,--just as soon as I possibly can, I promise you,--day after to-morrow, if possible. Yes, I will manage it somehow," added the orphan, resolutely, "day after to-morrow, at the same hour, you can count upon seeing me."
"Thank you, thank you!" exclaimed Herminie, embracing Ernestine effusively. "Ah, the compassion I showed to you your generous heart returns in liberal measure."
"Day after to-morrow, then, it shall be, Herminie."
"Again I thank you with my whole heart."
"And now good-bye," said the orphan.
It was in a deeply agitated frame of mind that she wended her way back to the spot where her governess was waiting for her in the cab. As she left the house, she met a man who was walking slowly up the street, casting furtive glances at the house in which Herminie lived.
This man was Ravil, who, as we have said before, frequently hung about the home of the duchess, of whom he had retained a vivid and extremely tantalising recollection ever since the day he so insolently accosted her, when she was on her way to the Beaumesnil mansion.
De Ravil instantly recognised the richest heiress in France, who, in her agitation, did not even glance at this man, whom she had met but once, at the Luxembourg, where M. de la Rochaigue had taken her.
"What does this mean?" Ravil said to himself, in the utmost astonishment. "Here is the little Beaumesnil dressed almost like a grisette, coming out alone, pale and evidently frightened half to death, from a house in this miserable part of the town. I'll follow her cautiously at a distance, and see where she goes. The more I think of it, the more inclined I am to believe that it is the devil himself who sends me such a piece of good luck as this! Yes, this discovery may be the goose that lays the golden eggs for me. It rejoices my heart. The mere thought of it awakens golden visions like those which haunt that big ninny, Mornand."
While Ravil was following the unsuspecting Ernestine, Herminie returned to M. de Maillefort.
CHAPTER X.
DESPAIR.
M. de Maillefort awaited Herminie's return in a state of deep perplexity, wondering in vain what strange combination of circumstances had brought these two young girls together. The marquis had desired this _rapprochement_ greatly, as we shall soon discover, but the hunchback had not yet devised any way to bring it about, so Ernestine's presence in Herminie's home, the secrecy with which she must have gone there, the secrecy, too, which Mlle. de Beaumesnil, by an imploring gesture, had begged him to preserve, all combined to excite his curiosity as well as his anxiety to the highest pitch.
So, on the return of Herminie, who apologised for having absented herself so long, the marquis said, with the most careless air imaginable:
"I shall be very sorry if you do not always treat me with that perfect freedom permissible between devoted friends, my dear child, and nothing could be more natural, I am sure, than a desire to exchange a few parting words with one of your young acquaintances, for this young lady is, I suppose--"
"One of my friends, monsieur, or rather my dearest friend."
"Ah, indeed," answered the marquis, smiling. "It must be a friendship of long standing, then, I suppose?"
"Very recent, on the contrary, monsieur. In fact, this friendship, though so true and tried, was conceived very suddenly."
"I have sufficient confidence in your powers of discernment and your nobility of heart to feel sure that you have chosen your friend wisely, my dear child."
"A single incident, which occurred scarcely an hour ago, monsieur, will give convincing proof of my friend's courage and nobility of soul. At the risk of her own life,--for she escaped serious injury only by a hair's breadth,--she rescued an aged man from certain death."
And Herminie, proud of her friend, and anxious to see her appreciated as she deserved to be, proceeded to describe Ernestine's courageous rescue of Commander Bernard.
The emotion of the marquis on hearing this unexpected revelation, which revealed Mlle. de Beaumesnil in a new and most attractive light, can be imagined.
"She certainly displayed wonderful courage and generosity of heart!" he cried. Then he added: "I was sure of it! You could not choose your friends other than judiciously, my dear child. But who is this brave young girl?"
"An orphan like myself, monsieur, who supports herself by her own exertions. She is an embroiderer."
"Ah, an embroiderer! But as she, too, is an orphan, she lives alone, I suppose?"
"No, monsieur, she lives with a relative, who took her, last Sunday evening, to a small entertainment, where I met her for the first tame."
The marquis knit his brows. For an instant he was almost tempted to believe that one of the Rochaigues was implicated in this mystery, but his implicit faith in Herminie caused him to reject that idea, though he wondered how Mlle. de Beaumesnil had managed to absent herself from her guardian's house for an entire evening, without the knowledge of the baron or his family. He asked himself, too, with no less astonishment, how Ernestine had managed to secure several hours of entire freedom that very morning, but fearing he would arouse Herminie's suspicions by questioning her further, he remarked:
"It is pleasant for me to know that you have a friend so worthy of you, and it seems to me," added the hunchback, "that she could not have come more opportunely."
"And why, monsieur?"
"You know you have given me the privilege of being perfectly frank with you."
"Certainly, monsieur."
"Very well, then, it seems to me that you are not in your accustomed good spirits. You look pale, and it is very evident that you have been weeping, my poor child."
"I assure you, monsieur--"
"And all this is the more noticeable because you seemed so perfectly happy the last two or three times I saw you. Yes, contentment could be read on every feature; it even imparted to your beauty such a radiance and expansiveness that--as you may perhaps remember, from the rarity of the thing--I complimented you upon your radiant beauty. Think of it! I, who am the very poorest flatterer that ever lived!" added the hunchback, probably in the hope of bringing a smile to Herminie's lips.
But the girl, unable to conquer her sadness, replied:
"The change in my appearance which you speak of is probably due to the fright that Ernestine's narrow escape caused me, monsieur."
The marquis, sure now that Herminie was suffering from some grief that she wished to conceal, insisted no further, but said:
"It is as you say, doubtless, but the danger is over now, my dear child, so I may as well tell you that my visit this morning is important, very important. You know that I have made it a point of honour not to say anything to you of late in relation to the grave matter that first brought me here."
"Yes, monsieur, and I am grateful to you for not having again referred to a subject that is so painful to me."
"I am compelled to speak again, if not of Madame de Beaumesnil, at least of her daughter," said the marquis, casting a keen, searching look at Herminie, in order to discover--though he was almost certain to the contrary--if the young girl knew that her new friend was Mlle. de Beaumesnil; but he did not feel the shadow of a doubt of Herminie's ignorance on the subject when she promptly replied, without the slightest embarrassment:
"You say you must speak of Madame de Beaumesnil's daughter, monsieur?"
"Yes, my dear child. I have made no attempt to conceal my devoted friendship for Madame de Beaumesnil, nor her dying requests in relation to the young orphan whom I have not yet discovered, in spite of the most persistent efforts. I told you, too, of the no less urgent request of the countess concerning her daughter, Ernestine. For divers reasons which, believe me, do not affect you in the least, I am very desirous, solely on Mlle. de Beaumesnil's account, understand, that you two young girls should become acquainted."
"But how could that be brought about, monsieur?" asked Herminie, eagerly, thinking what happiness it would give her to know her sister.
"In the easiest way imaginable--a way that was even suggested to you, I believe, when you so nobly returned that five hundred franc note to Madame de la Rochaigue."
"Yes, monsieur, Madame de la Rochaigue did give me some reason to hope that I might be employed to give Mlle. de Beaumesnil music lessons."
"Well, my dear child, that has been arranged."
"Really, monsieur?"
"Yes, I had a talk with the baroness last evening, and either to-day or to-morrow she is going to mention the matter to Mlle. de Beaumesnil. I do not doubt that she will accept the proposition. As for you, my dear child, I do not apprehend any refusal on your part."