Mysteries of Paris
Chapter 113 : "Stay, my lord; I see with pain the increasing sway which these regrets, as fruit

"Stay, my lord; I see with pain the increasing sway which these regrets, as fruitless as cruel, have upon your mind."

After a pause, Rudolph said to Murphy: "I can now make a confession to you, my old friend. I love--yes, I love pa.s.sionately a woman worthy of the most n.o.ble and devoted affection. Ah! it is since my heart is opened anew to all the delights of love, since I am predisposed to tender emotions, that I feel more vividly the loss of my daughter."

"Nothing can be plainer, my lord; and, pardon the comparison, but, in the same manner as certain men are joyous and benevolent in their intoxication, you are good and generous in your love."

"Yet my hatred of the wicked is also become deep; my aversion to Sarah increases, doubtless with my grief for the death of my child. I imagine that this bad mother has neglected her; that her ambitious hopes once ruined by my marriage, the countess, in her selfish egotism, has abandoned our child to mercenary hands, and that my daughter perhaps died from want of care. It is also my fault; I did not then know the extent of the sacred duties of paternity. When the true character of Sarah was suddenly revealed to me, I should have at once taken my daughter from her, to watch over her with love and solicitude. I ought to have foreseen that the countess could never be more than an unnatural mother. It is my fault, my fault!"

"Grief causes your highness to err. Could you, after such a fatal event had happened, defer for one day the long journey imposed on you--as--"

"As an expiation! You are right, my friend," said Rudolph, sorrowfully.

"Have you heard anything from the countess since my departure, my lord?"

"No: since her infamous accusations, which twice came near proving the ruin of Madame d'Harville, I have no news of her. Her presence here annoys me; it seems that my evil spirit is near me, that some new misfortune threatens me."

"Patience, your highness, patience. Happily, Germany is interdicted for her, and Germany expects us."

"Yes; we will soon depart. At least, during my short stay at Paris I shall have accomplished a sacred duty: I shall have made some steps more in the worthy path which an august and merciful will pointed out to me for my redemption. As soon as the son of Madame George shall be restored to her arms, innocent and free; as soon as Jacques Ferrand shall be convicted and punished for his crimes; as soon as I shall be a.s.sured of the future comforts of all the honest and industrious creatures who, by their resignation, their courage, and their probity, have deserved my interest, we will return to Germany--my journey will not have been fruitless."

"Above all, if you succeed in unmasking that abominable Jacques Ferrand, the corner-stone of so many crimes."

"Although the end justifies the means, and scruples should have no weight as regards this scoundrel, sometimes I regret having employed Cecily in this just and avenging reparation."

"She ought to arrive soon."

"She has arrived."

"Cecily?"

"Yes; I did not wish to see her. De Graun has given her very detailed instructions; she has promised to conform to them."

"Will she keep this promise?"

"Everything seems to promise it--the hope of a mitigation of her punishment, and the fear of being sent immediately back to Germany; for De Graun has her well watched; at the slightest misstep he will demand her of the government."

"It is just. She has arrived like an escaped convict: when they know what crimes caused her perpetual imprisonment, they would give her up at once."

"Besides, De Graun was almost alarmed at the sagacity with which Cecily comprehended, or rather, guessed the part, inflaming and yet platonic, she was to play at the notary's.

"But can she be introduced to him as early as you wish, through Mrs.

Pipelet? People of the species of Jacques Ferrand are so suspicious."

"I had, with reason, counted on the appearance of Cecily to combat and conquer this suspicion."

"Has he already seen her?"

"Yesterday. From the account given by Mrs. Pipelet, I do not doubt but that he was fascinated by the Creole; he took her at once into his service."

"Come, my lord, our game is won."

"I hope so; a ferocious cupidity and a savage thirst have led the executioner of Louise Morel to the most frightful misdeeds. It is in them that he will find the punishment of his crimes. A punishment which will not be barren for his victims; for you see the aim of all the efforts of the Creole."

"Cecily! Never did greater depravity, never a more dangerous corruption, never a blacker soul serve to the accomplishment of a project of higher morality, or of a more equitable end; and David, my lord?"

"He approves of all. With all the contempt and horror which he has for this creature, he only sees in her the instrument of a just vengeance.

'If this cursed woman can ever merit any compa.s.sion after all the injury she has done me,' said he to me, 'it will be in devoting herself to the punishment of this scoundrel, for whom she must be an exterminating demon.'" A servant having tapped at the door, Murphy went out, and returned, bringing in two letters, one of which seemed intended for Rudolph.

"It is a line from Madame George!" cried he, reading it rapidly.

"Well, Goualeuse?"

"No more doubt," cried Rudolph, after having read the letter; "another mysterious plot. The same evening on which the poor child disappeared, at the moment Madame George was about to inform me of the event, a man, whom she did not know, arrived express on horseback, came to her, as from me, to rea.s.sure her, saying I was informed of the sudden departure of Fleur-de-Marie, and that some day I would bring her back to the farm. Notwithstanding this notice, Madame George, uneasy at my silence respecting her _protegee_ cannot, she writes me, resist her desire to have some news of her cherished daughter, as she calls the poor child."

"This is strange, my lord."

"For what end should she have been carried off?"

"My lord," said Murphy, suddenly, "the Countess M'Gregor is no stranger to this affair."

"Sarah? What makes you think so?"

"Compare this with her denunciations to Madame d'Harville."

"You are right," cried Rudolph, a new light bursting upon him; it's evident: I comprehend now; yes, always the same calculation. The countess persists in believing, that by succeeding in breaking every tie of affection, she will make me feel the want of her. This is as odious as useless. Yet such an unworthy prosecution must have an end.

It is not only against me, but against all who merit respect, interest, and pity, that this woman directs her attacks. You will send M. de Graun at once, officially, to the countess; he will declare to her that I am advised of the part she has taken in the abduction of Fleur-de-Marie, and that if she does not give me the necessary information, so that I can recover this unhappy child, I shall act without pity, and then it is to justice M. de Graun must address himself."

"From the letter of Madame d'Harville, the Goualeuse must be confined at Saint Lazare."

"Yes, but Rigolette affirms that she saw her free, coming out of this prison. There is a mystery to be cleared up."

"I will go at once and give your highness's orders to Baron de Graun; but allow me to open this letter; it is from my correspondent at Ma.r.s.eilles, to whom I recommended the Chourineur, to facilitate the pa.s.sage of the poor fellow to Algiers."

"Well! has he gone?"

"Here is something singular."

"What is it?"

"After having waited at Ma.r.s.eilles a long time for a vessel to depart for Algiers, the Chourineur, who seemed every day more sad and thoughtful, suddenly declared, the day being fixed for his departure, that he preferred to return to Paris."

"How singular!"

"Although my correspondent had, as was agreed upon, placed a considerable sum of money at the disposal of the Chourineur, he only took what was absolutely necessary for him to return to Paris, where he will soon arrive, as they write me."

"Then he will explain to us himself why he has changed his mind, but send De Graun at once to the Countess M'Gregor, and go yourself to Saint Lazare to gain some information concerning Fleur-de-Marie." In an hour's time the Baron de Graun returned from the countess's.

Notwithstanding his habitual and official _sang froid_, the diplomatist seemed troubled; hardly had the usher announced him, than Rudolph remarked his paleness. "Well! De Graun, what is the matter?

have you seen her?"