Chapter 19
This inspiration was, moreover, to be the last favor which Providence vouchsafed to Henrietta,--an opportunity which, once allowed to pass, never returns. From that moment she found herself irrevocably insnared in a net which tightened day by day more around her, and held her a helpless captive. She had vowed to herself, the unfortunate girl, that she would economize her little hoard like the blood in her veins. But how could she economize?
She was without every thing. When M. de Brevan had gone to engage this garret-room, he had thought of nothing; or rather (and such a calculation was quite in keeping with his cold-blooded rascality) he had taken his measures so that his victim must soon be in utter destitution. Without any other clothes than those she wore on the night of her flight, she had no linen, no shoes, not a towel even to wipe her hands, unless she borrowed them from her friend down stairs.
Accustomed as she was to all the comforts of boundless wealth, and to all the refinements of cleanliness, these privations became to her a genuine martyrdom. Thus she spent in a variety of small purchases more than a hundred and fifty francs. The sum was enormous at a time when she could already count the days to the hour when she would be without bread. In addition to that she had to pay Mrs. Chevassat five francs a day for her board. Five francs were another enormous sum which troubled her grievously; for she would have been quite willing to live on bread and water. But in that direction she thought no economizing was possible.
One evening she had hinted at the necessity of retrenching, when Mrs. Chevassat had shot at her a venomous glance, which pierced her to the very marrow of her bones.
"It must be done," she said to herself.
In her mind she felt as if the five francs were a kind of daily ransom which she paid the estimable concierge's wife for her good-will. It is true, that, for such a consideration, the terrible woman was all attention for her "poor little pussy-cat;" for thus she had definitely dubbed Henrietta, becoming daily more familiar, and adding this odious and irritating presumption to all the other tortures of the poor girl. Many a time poor Henrietta had been made so indignant and furious, that she had been on the point of rebelling; but she had never dared, submitting to this familiarity for the same reason for which she paid her five francs every day. The old woman, taking her silence for consent, put no longer any restraint upon herself. She declared she could not comprehend how her "little pussy-cat," young and pretty as she was, could consent to live as she did. Was that a life?
Then she always came back to M. Maxime, who continued to call regularly twice a day, the poor young man!
"And more than that, poor little pussy," she added, "you will see that one of these days he will summon courage enough to come and offer you an apology."
But Henrietta would not believe that.
"He will never have such consummate impudence," she thought.
He had it, nevertheless. One morning, when she had just finished righting up her room, somebody knocked discreetly, at her door. Thinking that it was Mrs. Chevassat, who brought her her breakfast, she went to the door and opened it, without asking who was there. And she started back with amazement and with terror when she recognized M. de Brevan.
It really looked as if he were making a supreme effort over himself. He was deadly pale; his lips trembled; his eyes looked dim and uncertain; and he moved his lips and jaws as if he had gravel in his mouth.
"I have come, madam," he said, "to ask if you have reconsidered."
She made no reply, looking at him with an air of contempt which would have caused a man with some remnant of honor in his heart to flee from the spot instantly. But he had, no doubt, armed himself beforehand, against contempt.
"I know," he continued, "that my conduct must appear abominable in your eyes. I have led you into this snare, and I have meanly betrayed a friend's confidence; but I have an excuse. My passion is stronger than my will, than my reason."
"A vile passion for money!"
"You may think so, madam, if you choose. I shall not even attempt to clear myself. That is not what I came for. I came solely for the purpose of enlightening you in regard to your own position, which you do not seem to realize."
If she had followed her own impulses, Henrietta would have driven the wretch away. But she thought she ought to know his intentions and his plans. She overcame her disgust, therefore, and remained silent.
"In the first place," said M. de Brevan, apparently trying to collect his thoughts, "bear this in mind, madam. You are ruined in reputation, and ruined through me. All Paris is convinced, by this time, that I have run away with you; and that I keep you concealed in a charming place, where we enjoy our mutual love; in fact, that you are my mistress."
He seemed to expect an explosion of wrath. By no means! Henrietta remained motionless like a statue.
"What would you have?" he went on in a tone of sarcasm. "My coachman has been talking. Two friends of mine, who reached the palace on foot when I drove up, saw you jump into my coupe; and, as if that had not been enough, that absurd M. Elgin must needs call me out. We had a duel, and I have wounded him."
The manner in which the young girl shrugged her shoulders showed but too clearly that she did not believe M. de Brevan. He added,--
"If you doubt it, madam, pray read this, then, at the top of the second column." She took the paper which he offered her, and there she read,--
"Yesterday, in the woods near Vincennes, a duel with swords was fought between M. M. de B---- and one of the most distinguished members of our American colony. After five minutes' close combat, M. E---- was wounded in the arm. It is said that the sudden and very surprising disappearance of one of the greatest heiresses of the Faubourg Saint Germain was not foreign to this duel. Lucky M. de B---- is reported to know too much of the beautiful young lady's present home for the peace of the family. But surely these lines ought to be more than enough on the subject of an adventure which will ere long, no doubt, end in a happy and brilliant marriage."
"You see, madam," said M. de Brevan, when he thought Henrietta had had time enough to read the article, "you see it is not I who advise marriage. If you will become my wife, your honor is safe."
"Ah, sir!"
In that simple utterance there was so much contempt, and such profound disgust, that M. de Brevan seemed to turn, if possible, whiter than before.
"Ah! I see you prefer marrying M. Thomas Elgin," he said. She only shrugged her shoulders; but he went on,--
"Oh, do not smile! He or I; you have no other alternative. Sooner or later you will have to choose."
"I shall not choose, sir."
"Oh, just wait till poverty has come! Then you think, perhaps, you will only need to implore your father to come to your assistance. Do not flatter yourself. Your father has no other will but that of the Countess Sarah; and the Countess Sarah will have it so, that you marry Sir Thorn."
"I shall not appeal to my father, sir."
"Then you probably count upon Daniel's return? Ah, believe me! do not indulge in such dreams. I have told you Daniel loves the Countess Sarah; and, even if he did not love her, you have been too publicly disgraced for him ever to give you his name. But that is nothing yet. Go to the navy department, and they will tell you that 'The Conquest' is out on a cruise of two years more. At the time when Daniel returns, if he returns at all (which is very far from being certain), you will long since have become Mrs. Elgin or Madame de Brevan, unless"--
Henrietta looked at him