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The Idol of Paris

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The Princess had spoken quite quickly, without reflection. She blushed
slightly when she remembered Esperance and Jean Perliez, but she had
made the mistake and there was no way of calling it back. She thought
that Esperance belonged to that circle where a compliment effaces what
might seem like an impertinence.

At first the name of the Duke de Morlay had fallen like a pebble in
the stream and began to ripple the waters; a spreading circle of
thoughts, fears, resentments began to move in every heart. The
philosopher himself was troubled, for he had been prompted by Maurice
to observe the assiduous attractions of the Duke, and the agitation he
caused Esperance whenever they had been together. Esperance and
Genevieve both grew pale. The young painter raised his head, ready for
some sort of a return reply. Without hesitation he had decided on the
plan to follow. He must not only be invited to the fête, which would
be easy enough; he must take part in it, so as to be able to shadow
and watch the manoeuvres of the over agreeable Duke.

"If you will allow me, Madame," he said boldly, "I should like to
contribute my mite to your fête by painting the scenery?"

The Princess clapped her hands with delight at the suggestion and this
new support.

"How pleased my cousin de Morlay will be," she exclaimed. "He has just
been saying to me, 'For the scenery we shall require a painter, a real
artist.'"

"A professional," said Maurice, bowing ironically.

The Princess was somewhat provoked, but she appeared not to notice the
rather pointed remark.

"You might also design the costumes for the tableaux vivants," she
continued.

"My cousin," exclaimed Esperance, "has a great gift for arrangement
and composition. You will be able to judge for yourself soon; I will
show you how beautifully he has painted my portrait."

"True. May we see it now?"

This made a welcome change for the four young people. They all went
towards the "Five Divisions of the World." The Duchess stopped every
now and then on the way to admire the sea and the luminous quality of
the air. She was really amazed when she was shown the picture. It had
been installed in the little court, under a kind of alcove that
Maurice had made for it. He had found in his aunt's "reliquary" some
pretty hangings which hid the alcove, and the picture lost nothing by
the arrangement of drapery.

"You have indeed a beautiful portrait there," said the Princess
sincerely. "Every year for his birthday I give my husband some work of
art. If you do not find me too unworthy a subject it shall be signed
this year, 'Maurice Renaud.'"

The young man bowed. "I shall be very happy indeed, Madame, and very
highly honoured."

"Then, as our friend and collaborator," said the Duchess, "you must, I
think, come with us at once so as to be able to get to work with the
Duke without delay."

"Give me time to pack by bag, Madame," returned the triumphant
Maurice, "and I will join you at the carriage."

"I will come and help with your packing, cousin. You will excuse me?"
she added turning to the Princess.

And Esperance, followed by Genevieve and Jean Perliez disappeared
together.

As soon as she was sure she was out of ear-shot Esperance threw her
arms about her cousin's neck. "You were simply wonderful."

"Yes," joined in Maurice, "the enemy has fallen into the ambush, as
Baron van Berger would say. I will be back as soon as possible, but I
must take time to rout our amiable Duke. He is the real enemy, and the
most difficult opponent, but I am confident. With my most diabolical
scheming, little cousin, I am going to have great fun. All the same, I
foresee that I sha'n't be able to stay away long." And he kissed
Genevieve's hand tenderly.

They soon finished the packing, and Jean closed the suitcase, and the
young people arrived at the carriage just as it drew up.

"How very good it is of you to accept this sudden demand upon your
services with such good grace!"

"I must remind you, Madame, that I suggested the work myself and I am
glad to do it. I am also quite happy to be carried off by you, as it
is such an unlooked-for pleasure."

Two days later the professor had a letter from Maurice, which he read
aloud to the family as they drank their coffee.

"My dear Uncle,--This letter is to be shared by the whole community. I
have found a world gone mad in this magnificent château. We are
twenty-two at table. I have been cordially welcomed by all the
strangers, to whom this cursed Duke, delightful fellow, has graciously
presented me. I set to work at once to unravel and discover the plans
of Charles de Morlay. But more anon. This is the programme: an
orchestra composed of excellent artists are to play while the guests
arrive, inspect each other, and take their places. We begin with a
little ballet, entitled, _The Moon in Search of Pierrot_, acted
and danced by some very good amateurs. I am to paint the drop for this
ballet, and the authors (it has taken three of them to elaborate the
stupidest scenario you ever yawned through) have called for a
Scandinavian design and I have promised it, and shall paint it at
Penhouet. Then, the great attraction, the tableaux vivants. That is
where I lay in wait for our astute Duke. I will spare you details of
nine of the tableaux. There are to be twelve, but Esperance appears
only in three, which are the best. In one she represents Andromeda
fastened to the rock, and Perseus (the Duke) delivers her after
overcoming the dragon. In the second, the 'Judgment of Paris,' she
appears as Aphrodite, to whom Paris (the Duke) gives the apple. The
third is 'Europa and the Bull,' Europa being personified by Esperance.
The Duke does not wish to look ridiculous in a bull's hide, so takes
liberties with the legend and transforms the bull into a centaur. I
have said 'Amen' to everything. Finally to complete the fête, which
will no doubt be well attended and very profitable, there will be
little shops of all kinds. Esperance is to sell flowers from the
Duchess's gardens. I have my own idea on this point, which I shall
later confide to you. I can easily get her fiancé to agree. Your
nephew, dear uncle, should live in the land of honey for the future. I
have already had orders for three portraits, and of three pretty
women, which assures me that the portraits will be successful. Ahem! I
am taking all my notes to-day and will be with you the day after
to-morrow. It is up to you, dear uncle, to distribute in unequal or
suitable doses my respects and love and affection amongst all those
anxious to receive such privileges. Your affectionately devoted,
Maurice."

"It seems to me," said Genevieve, as she left the dining-room with
Esperance, "that your cousin has arranged everything very well, and
that you ought to be quite happy and content."

"Oh! I know very well that I shall be taken care of, but how can I
struggle against the tumultuous ideas that assail me? The vision of
the Duke has haunted me ever since Maurice left. I have never seen the
château, but I am sure that I shall recognize it. I would like to fall
ill with some complaint that would send me to sleep and sleep. Oh! if
I could get a little ugly for a little while, just long enough to make
the Duke lose interest in me, I should be so glad. Dear Genevieve,
can't you give me a little dose of the elixir of your happiness. I
need it sorely just now."

The girls had been walking as they talked down to the little beach at
Penhouet. The sea was at low tide, and the golden sand, dried by the
sun, offered them a restful couch. They stretched themselves out upon
it, and Esperance soon fell asleep. Jean Perliez appeared on the crest
of the little hill that hides the bay from the sightseeker. Genevieve
signed to him to come down quietly. He had a telegram, a dispatch from
Belgium. He pinned it to Esperance's hat lying on the sand at her
side, and dropping down close to Genevieve, began to talk in low
tones. For both he and Genevieve were uneasy concerning their little
friend.

A farm dog at the moment began to bark furiously. Esperance woke
quickly, looking pale and worried, with her hands pressed on her
frightened heart. She saw the telegram and opened it quickly.

"Albert will be here this evening by the second boat. What time is
it?" She showed a little emotion, but only a little, though she felt
deeply.

She looked towards the sun.

"It can't be four yet."

Jean took out his watch.

"Twenty to four," he said.

"The boat can't get here before five-thirty. Quick, quick, run, Jean,
and ask to have some conveyance got ready. I must go and tell my
father and get his permission to go with you and Genevieve to meet my
fiancée. Ah! what good luck!" she said with a long breath, "What good
luck!"

François Darbois was delighted for his daughter to go and meet Albert,
and departed so radiantly that he said to his wife, "I believe she is
getting to love this brave Albert?"

Genevieve, who had heard, as had also Jean, said to the young man in a
low voice, "But, my God! suppose she is beginning to love the Duke?"




CHAPTER XXII


The boat approached the little quay of Palais slowly with Count
Styvens standing well forward, his tall figure silhouetted against the
grey of the sea. He caught sight of Esperance immediately, as she
stood up in the brake, waving her handkerchief. Great happiness was in
his heart, and in his haste to be ashore, he went to assist them to
lay down the gangplank, and was at the carriage in a second, kissing
most tenderly the hand Esperance held out to him. A great basket was
placed on the seat. The girls blushed with pleasure, for a sweet odour
was wafted to them from it.

All the way home Esperance heard from Albert in detail all that had
happened to him since she had last seen him. She talked incessantly,
as if to drown her thoughts under a sea of nonsense. At the farm the
young man could see the pleasure they all showed at his return. Of
course he was somewhat astonished to learn that Maurice was absent
with the Duchess, for he had not yet heard of the events that had
happened during his absence.

They all gathered together in the dining-room. The Count took out of
his pocket a little case, and asking Esperance to give him her hand,
slipped on to her middle finger a magnificent engagement ring. Somehow
her hand went cold as death as Albert held it, and her face contracted
strangely.

"Do you regret your word already, Esperance?" he asked in a nervous,
low voice.

"No, no, Albert," she said quickly, nervously twisting the ring on her
finger, "but this is a very serious moment, and you know that I
incline to taking things seriously here," and she put her hand across
her heart. Then she smiled, pressed his hand, and showed the ring to
Genevieve. They all examined and admired the beautiful jewel. When the
philosopher turned to praise it Albert had disappeared.

The basket was opened revealing a bouquet of magnificent white
orchids, marvellously fresh, held in a white scarf with embroidered
ends.

When they assembled for dinner an hour later Esperance was not
present, and Albert began to look uneasy. But they had not long to
wait, and when she did appear she was dressed all in white, an
embroidered scarf fastened about her waist, and several orchids
arranged like a coronet in her hair. At that moment she seemed almost
supernaturally beautiful.

"What a pity that Maurice is not here! You are so lovely this
evening," said Genevieve.

"Oh," said Esperance smiling, "that is not the only reason you regret
his absence?"

Next day they were surprised to get no word from the painter to tell
them which boat he would take. It was warm and they had coffee served
in the convolvulus bower. The breeze came through an opening from the
sea.

"Look! isn't that a pretty boat?" cried out Genevieve.

A white yacht was sailing slowly towards Penhouet. The philosopher got
his glasses.

"It is the Princess's flag," he exclaimed.

"Yes, yes," agreed Albert, "it is the Belgian flag. Listen, there is
the salute."

Jean ran to the farm, calling back, "I will answer it. All right, M.
Darbois?"

The flag sank and rose three times, then the yacht headed straight for
the little bay. Genevieve climbed on a high rock and clapped her
hands. "It is he, oh! it is he."

She turned radiantly back to the party in the grove. Her "It is he"
made Albert smile. It was so charming, so sincere that they all shared
the quality of her joy.

It was indeed Maurice returning on the Princess's yacht. The tide was
so high that the boat could get quite close.

Everyone went down to the beach where the waves were washing the
little rocks. Albert jumped on the largest rock which seemed to recede
to sea with him. Genevieve would have followed him but he cried out,
"Look out, it is very deep here."

She stayed where she was, but so woebegone did her face become that
Albert leapt ashore again, and before she knew what he was doing,
picked her up, and was back on the slippery rock with her.

"Oh! the bold lad!" said the Professor.

The little sloop had been launched and Maurice could easily land on
the big rock. He kissed Genevieve, and told the Count of his delight
in seeing him again. Then he looked around him. The water surrounded
them on all sides. He looked at Genevieve questioningly, but by way of
response Albert simply picked her up again and went ashore with her.
Maurice was quick and agile, he was even strong in a nervous way, but
Albert's strength and agility filled him with wonder.

Esperance congratulated the Count on his prowess and his kind thought
in enabling Genevieve to see Maurice a little sooner.

"It is because I know what that joy is myself," he answered simply.

Esperance's eyes grew moist as she turned to Albert.

"You are so good, you always do the right thing. I am prouder every
day to be loved by you."

During dinner Maurice gave them an account of all that had happened to
him, with many new incidents.

"I am not telling you anything new," he added to Albert when they were
alone. "You know as well as I do that the Duke is in love with
Esperance. We all know it here."

Albert agreed with a rather sad smile that he did know it.

"Now that my cousin is your fiancée, he is too much of a gentleman to
seek her, but he certainly wants to be near her, to talk to her, in
short to flirt with her."

"You believe that he would dare?"

"My dear cousin," said Maurice, half jestingly, half serious. "I
believe him capable of anything, but he knows that you are here ... and
perhaps is afraid to take liberties."

"To put an end to his manoeuvrings we must somehow make him look
ridiculous, and expose his folly. The fête, I think, will give us our
chance."

Albert said, "I will follow your advice, Maurice."

"Very good. I will give you particulars of my plans. By the way, I
have brought all your invitations. I will go and deliver them." So
they went to seek the others, and Maurice gave each one a card with a
personal invitation for the twentieth of September. Genevieve blushed.

"I am invited as well," she said.

"Of course; and I believe the amiable Duchess intends to ask you to
recite the poem she has written. It is very touching. I will find it
for you to-morrow. Ah! yes, you have made a great impression on that
delightful lady. She talked about you to me all the time. You would
have supposed she was doing it to please me."

Genevieve became purple. It was the first time Maurice had expressed
himself so frankly. When they left the table she led Esperance aside
and kissed her until she almost stifled her.

"Oh! how happy I am, and how I love him!"

Maurice and Jean passed by talking so busily that they did not see the
girls.

"You are sure?"

"Absolutely. Since I have been away for four whole days I am convinced
more than ever that I adore that girl and shall not be happy without
her."

"You have written to your father?"

"Not yet. I must first of all talk to Genevieve."

"You are not afraid of what she will say? Of her answer?"

Maurice smiled.

"I want first to tell her of my future plans, and to have a
confidential chat with her about everything."

"You will be my best man, old fellow," he went on, clapping Jean on
the shoulder. "You have chosen the role of actor, with the temperament
of a spectator; strange lover!"

"Like any other man I follow my Destiny. You were born for happiness,
Maurice, one has only to look at you to be convinced of it. You
breathe forth life, you love, you conquer. Youth radiates from you. I
have asked myself a hundred times why I have chosen this career, and I
am persuaded that I must live, if at all, the life of others."

"Are you very upset--unhappy?" asked Maurice.

"No, oh no; I don't suffer much, but of course I am a little
disturbed. I am like a reflection. Esperance's happiness elates, her
sorrow depresses me. I love her purely as an idealist. I would like
Count Albert to look like the Duke de Morlay-La-Branche, and still
keep the noble soul that we know he possesses. If your cousin should
die, I truly believe that I would die. My life would be without aim,
without soul; bereft of light, the reflection would vanish."

They walked slowly down to the beach to join Albert and the girls. The
night had broken soft and limpid, full of stars, full of dreams. They
sat down on the sand, silently admiring the prospect. The waves broke
regularly as if scanning the poem of silence. A fresh scent rose from
the rocks which were clothed with sea moss. Far away a dog was
barking. The young people were silent, united in a mood of wonder
before the depths and lights of the night.





PART IV. THE CHÂTEAU




CHAPTER XXIII


On the fifteenth of September the girls had to tear themselves away
from their quiet retreat at Belle-Isle, and leave Penhouet and all
else to travel with Mlle. Frahender, Jean and Maurice to the Château
de Montjoie. When they arrived there, at ten in the evening, Esperance
recognised the Duke in the distance as soon as the carriage stopped.
He was looking out of one of the great windows above the terrace. He
was, in fact, awaiting the coming of Esperance. But he pretended not
to have seen the carriage and continued to gaze up at the stars.
Esperance trembled and her lips were icy cold. Albert had also seen
the Duke, and was not deceived by his attitude. He had resolved to be
calm, but a sullen, unbidden anger arose within him.

When the housekeeper had installed the two girls in a tower of the
Château, she left with them a little Breton peasant girl.

"She will be devoted to your service," she said. "Her name is
Jeanette. Her room is above yours and, when you ring this bell, she
will wait upon you at once."

Esperance threw herself on her bed, still dressed, for her heart was
overflowing.

"Ah! why, why is Albert so trusting? Why did he let me come here?
Would it not have been better to have run the risk of offending the
Duchess?"

And when Genevieve tried to reason with her, "I am suffering, little
sister," she replied, "I am so unhappy; for the sight of the Duke at
the window distressed me. I tremble at the idea of seeing him again,
and yet I long for the time when I can give him my hand."

"But this is serious," said Genevieve. "I thought you had recovered
from all that nonsense, or rather, I thought you would be less
affected."

She helped Esperance to undress. The poor child let her do so without
a word.

She slept badly, haunted by dreams and troubled with nightmare. At six
o'clock in the morning she woke up feverishly, and rang for the maid.

The little Breton appeared five minutes later, her eyes still full of
sleep, her cap crooked.

"Will you get me a little warm water?" asked Esperance. "It is cold
from the tap."

"It is too early, I am afraid. Mademoiselle must please to wait a
little."

"Well, be as quick as you can, please. I want to go for a walk in the
park while there is no one about."

The little Breton laughed. "You won't run any danger of finding anyone
at this hour. What will the ladies take for breakfast?"

"Two cups of chocolate, please," said Genevieve, beginning to get up.

"Be so good as to make haste, Jeanette, get us our hot water and our
chocolate, like a good girl and say nothing to anyone."

Jeanette looked in the mirror, adjusted her cap, put back a stray lock
of hair, and opened the door. But she stopped, looking at the girls
craftily.

"Which way were you going, Mademoiselle?"

"That all depends. Which way is the prettiest?"

"When you leave the Château you must turn to your right and walk to
the first thicket. About ten minutes through the thicket and you will
come out on the big terrace. That is where they always take the guests
and say how beautiful it is!"

"Thank you," said Genevieve, "to the right, then the thicket and the
terrace. We aren't likely to meet anyone?"

"Nobody is abroad but the cats at this hour, and...."

Outside the door she made a face like a mischievous child who had just
played a trick. Running rapidly across the long corridors, she mounted
to the second storey, opened an ante-chamber which led to another room
and knocked lightly. The Duke opened the door.

"You here, Jeanette! What is it?"

"My godfather," she said very low, "the young ladies are getting up
now, and I think they are going to walk in the grove to the right of
the Château."

"They are going ... alone?"

"Certainly. No one else is awake, but they may be going to meet their
lovers."

"Why did you come to tell me yourself, instead of sending my man?"

"Because he is a lazy fellow who would have taken an hour to dress and
then would have told a lie and said I told him too late."

"Very well, run along now, and don't get caught."

So Jeanette sped quickly towards the kitchen to get the hot water in a
great copper can, which she half emptied on the way to ease the
weight.

As soon as they were dressed, Esperance and Genevieve made quick work
of their chocolate, and started out. It was very still.

"It is the Sleeping Beauty's wood," said Esperance.

They went towards the grove they saw on their right. At the entrance
to it Esperance closed her parasol and stopped suddenly, pressing
Genevieve's hand.

"Some one has been here already."

They both stopped motionless, listening. Not a sound. They slowly
continued on their way, but the thicket did not lead to the terrace,
and ended in a little enclosed dell. On a pedestal a figure of _Love
in Chains_ overlooked a stone bench.

"We have lost our way," said Genevieve. "Let us go back."

"No it is charming here. Let us go on to the bench. I am a little
tired and my heart is beating so.... What was that?"

She put her companion's hand above her heart.

"Why what is the matter with you. Why are you so nervous?"

"Ah!" replied Esperance, with great apprehension of she knew not what,
"I feel as if I could not struggle.... The presence in this house of
the Duke de Morlay overcomes me. I don't know whether that is love;
but at least it tells me that I do not love Albert. Come dear, let us
rest a moment."

Just then a man stepped out from the thicket and barred their way.

The Duke stood before them.

Esperance uttered one cry and fell in a faint.

The Duke started forward to catch her, but Genevieve repulsed him.

"It is a cowardly trick you have played on us, sir. I understand now
that we did not lose our way but were duped by your orders."

As she spoke, she was trying to support Esperance, but almost falling
herself under the weight of the inert body. She cried at her own
impotence, but she was obliged to accept the Duke's help to get
Esperance as far as the marble bench.

"Try," she said holding out Esperance's tiny handkerchief, "to get me
a little water."

"Instantly, Mademoiselle ... there is a fountain near at hand."

When he came back Genevieve moistened the poor child's temples. The
Duke was very pale.

"Mademoiselle, believe me that I am greatly upset at what has
happened. I had no idea...!"

"I shall be very glad to excuse you. Esperance looks a little better,
had you not better go away?"

"But I cannot leave you all alone like this."

He took Esperance's hand, and it seemed to him that warmth came back
into it.

Esperance opened her eyes. Still half unconscious, she looked at him
curiously, then she cried sharply out, "Have mercy, go away, go away!"

And she gave way to hysterical sobs.

The Duke said humbly, "I will leave you."

And then kneeling before her, "Forgive me, I am going; I am leaving
you ... but I entreat you to forgive me."

He was sincere in what he said. Both girls felt it.

Esperance had risen gently.

"I am betrothed to Count Styvens," she said. "You know that. I know
that my emotion just now was foolish, but I am sick at heart and I am
not always able to control myself. You are good, I see that. Please
help me to cure myself. I will be grateful to you all my life."

"I give you my word...." his voice trembled. "I will make myself...."
and he went away.

As soon as they were left alone the two girls took counsel as to what
course they should pursue. Esperance, in despair, threw herself on
Genevieve's judgment, and Genevieve asked permission to consult
Maurice.

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