To avoid the great heat of the day, and that at the first we might spare our horses, we left Morsigny early. How far or how fast we might have to travel beyond La Voulle I could not tell. It was there the King's letter was to be opened, and where it bade us ride, however great the distance, there ride we must.
Naturally of this second reason Mademoiselle knew nothing as she set us on our way. At first she walked beside Gaston's pony1, the fingers of one hand twisted in its mane. The sleeve of her linen2 bodice had slipped back to the elbow, leaving the arm bare and whiter than marble against the dark hide of the shaggy beast. Riding behind, I saw that though the boy in his eager excitement was full of childish words, she answered nothing to his many questions, and at the last her farewell was brief.
"Kiss me, my heart," she said, looking up suddenly.
Without checking his pony, Gaston stooped aside, and as their lips met, she clipped him in her arms.
"Ah, Suzanne! you will have me down!" he cried petulantly3, and loosening her clasp, she loitered back to where I followed.
"Monsieur," she began, laying her hand on my bridle4 hand, but with so much unconsciousness in the act that I could no more have covered it with my right than I could have covered a man's, "you will remember how anxious I am, and how hard it is to wait? It is always worse for us women than for you. You act, you men; you work, you forget yourselves in danger, lose yourselves in the thing to be done; while we can but wait at home and hope and—yes, thank God, we can always pray. Ah, Monsieur, how I shall pray until you return!"
"Was Paris waiting?"
"That was once in a lifetime, and was easier than this. You will remember?"
"Oh! be sure I shall remember; my fear is lest you forget."
"I, Monsieur? Forget what?"
"Gaspard Hellewyl; when there is no more need for him, and Gaspard Hellewyl is—elsewhere. Will you remember then, Mademoiselle Suzanne?"
For the first time that morning a little pucker5 of a smile caught up the corners of her mouth, and her eyes lightened; nor, I remembered afterwards, did she lift her hand from where it rested, though her fingers shook; neither, let me say, was there any pressure; no, not the faintest.
"Oh, Monsieur! be sure I shall remember Paris."
"Mademoiselle, what do I care for Paris?"
"Tours, then, and how eager you were to kill a man—only there was none to kill."
"No, nor Tours either."
"The Grey Leap? Ah, Monsieur! surely you do not think I can ever forget the Grey Leap?"
"Not even the Grey Leap; I said Gaspard Hellewyl."
The smile deepened a little. With downcast eyes and hands now clasped demurely6 before her, she dropped back a pace.
"Now, Monsieur, it is you who forget. You forget you are a great gentleman of Flanders, the friend of the Prince de Talmont, the envoy7 of the King of France; you forget you are Monsieur Gaspard de Helville! the bearer of a great name—did we not agree that it was a great name? While I—— You will bring Gaston safe home to his nurse, will you not, Monsieur de Helville?"
She spoke8 so softly, with such a hesitating depreciation9, that I could not tell if it was in raillery or in earnest, but it seemed to me that the glance flashed into my eyes at the last was not all mischief10, "You are—Mademoiselle Suzanne. I dare not trust myself to say what more you are, but God be thanked for you. My prayer is that some day I may speak plainer, to-day I must not. As I sit here I am a poor gentleman of Flanders, so poor that I have not even a roof to offer the woman I would dare to love as wife. But it is my hope this peace to Navarre may change all that, may roof over Solignac and give me enough of my father's lands to make that wife, not a great lady of Flanders, but the happiest, the most reverenced11, the best beloved. It is in that hope I ride to-day to—to—La Voulle, to end that which is begun; and but for that hope, I swear to you I would never call Louis King even by service. Ah, Mademoiselle Suzanne, Mademoiselle Suzanne! trust me, I pray; not a little, but trust me much until I dare to ask to be trusted all in all. God keep you, Mademoiselle."
"God keep you, Monsieur," she answered softly, again raising her drooped12 eyes, and this time there was no mockery in them, not even mischief—a wistfulness rather, a pathos13 almost the beginning of tears. "Believe me, I truly trust you. Once already I have said I have ever found you the truest gentleman, and, Monsieur, I do not see any reason to change, nor, I am sure, will you give me reason."
"Then, adieu, Mademoiselle!"
"No, no; adieu is a long word! But, lest you should forget me in La Voulle, keep that to remind you of—Morsigny!"
Reaching up, she dropped a half-blown rose on the saddle before me, gave Roland two or three little dainty pats on the neck, then, before I could take her hand, she stepped aside between the whins, now no longer in their glory of gold, and so left me.
Perhaps it was best so. The witchery of that last upward glance had so moved me, tingling14 every nerve to the finger-tips, that had I once touched her hand as man to maid, I must have blurted15 out more than was wise or even honourable16 in one who had work to do for Louis of France. But if that sweet folly17 was denied me, the rose at my lips and her last clear look, so grave, so shy, so almost tender, set my heart dancing; and slow as was our ride to La Voulle, the little Count had no cause to complain of my gaiety.
Had I dared, I would have avoided not only The Good Queen inn, but La Voulle itself. But balanced against the risk of interference from the townsfolk was that of disobedience to the King's orders, and of the two I feared the wrath18 of Louis more than all La Voulle howling beyond the door. If he said, Return to the inn, he had his reasons, and the man who dared question them was a fool to his own hurt.
Riding up to the door, with its swinging, half-effaced sign of I do not know what Queen of Navarre's portrait, I enquired19 boldly for Brother Paulus. Boldness was our safety, and for that day, unknown to himself, Brother Paulus was to guarantee our good faith. If the person of the little Count was well known in La Voulle, so was that of the chaplain to Morsigny, and my plan was to ride out with the priest in company as if we returned home by the shortest way. It was all so simple, so natural, who would raise a question? Once clear of the town I would give Paul a letter to Mademoiselle, and, with or without his consent, seize Gaston and gallop20 for the King's tryst21. Let that be where it might, Louis could be trusted to have smoothed the road for us.
"Brother Paulus?"
"Certainly, Monsieur. He arrived from Pau late last night, and being tired, keeps his room."
"Good! Monsieur le Comte and I will go to him. Do you see to the horses, Martin, and come up for instructions in an hour, for I think we shall leave early. Tell me," I went on, to the servant who led the way, "is Volran in the house? Yes? Then let him know that the Count de Foix and Monsieur de Helville dine here to-day."
So far Martin had not been taken into my confidence, but I calculated that in the time named I should have read the King's letter and so be in a position to arrange our plans. In the carrying out of these Martin's cunning and experience would help me. Volran too, who might have later orders for us, would be warned by our presence.
As I spoke, a door facing the stair-head opened, and Brother Paul in his black frock appeared on the landing.
"Ah! my two sons, is it you? Whose kind thought was it that you should come so far to meet so poor and lonely an old man? Mademoiselle Suzanne's?"
"No, it was my Monsieur Gaspard's," shouted little Gaston, rushing forward, and flinging his arms round the monk's knees. "Isn't Monsieur Gaspard good to me, mon père?"
"But better still to me, petit fils. We please ourselves in pleasing the young, but few give a thought to please the old, and yet there are times when the old sadly need comforting." Reaching out above the little lad's head he caught my hand in his and held it. "In a good day for us he came to Navarre; we must try and keep our Monsieur Gaspard, we two."
"He shall marry Suzanne, mon père, and when I am Count de Narbonne I shall give him an estate."
"Not Suzanne, I think," answered Brother Paul, looking me smilingly in the face as one who would say, Be tolerant to his ignorance. "I do not think that would do, but we shall find some one else."
"And while you are looking for her," said I laughing, "I shall go and see that there is dinner enough, lest I starve while I wait."
Not Suzanne! said Brother Paulus, and how well I understood the significance of his indulgent smile. Gentle as a Saint John, tolerant as a Saint Francis, he was aristocrat22 to his finger-tips. A Hellewyl of Solignac marry Gaston de Foix's nurse! No wonder he smiled and said, Not Suzanne! It was all of a piece with the generous little lad's foolish talk of granting estates. A Hellewyl of Solignac would naturally be courteous23 to one in Suzanne's position, but more than courteous, no! and it was with a sudden flush of discomfort24 that I remembered Brigitta, and what Martin had called the philandering25 under the beech26 trees. Thank God there had been no thought of philandering with Suzanne D'Orfeuil.
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1
pony
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| adj.小型的；n.小马 | |
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linen
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| n.亚麻布，亚麻线，亚麻制品；adj.亚麻布制的，亚麻的 | |
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petulantly
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bridle
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| n.笼头，束缚；vt.抑制，约束；动怒 | |
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pucker
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| v.撅起，使起皱；n.（衣服上的）皱纹，褶子 | |
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demurely
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| adv.装成端庄地，认真地 | |
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7
envoy
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| n.使节，使者，代表，公使 | |
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8
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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9
depreciation
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| n.价值低落，贬值，蔑视，贬低 | |
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mischief
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| n.损害，伤害，危害；恶作剧，捣蛋，胡闹 | |
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reverenced
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| v.尊敬，崇敬( reverence的过去式和过去分词 )；敬礼 | |
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12
drooped
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| 弯曲或下垂，发蔫( droop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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pathos
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| n.哀婉，悲怆 | |
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14
tingling
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| v.有刺痛感( tingle的现在分词 ) | |
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blurted
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| v.突然说出，脱口而出( blurt的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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16
honourable
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| adj.可敬的；荣誉的，光荣的 | |
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folly
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| n.愚笨，愚蠢，蠢事，蠢行，傻话 | |
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wrath
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| n.愤怒，愤慨，暴怒 | |
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enquired
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| 打听( enquire的过去式和过去分词 )； 询问； 问问题； 查问 | |
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gallop
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| v./n.(马或骑马等)飞奔；飞速发展 | |
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tryst
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| n.约会；v.与…幽会 | |
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aristocrat
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| n.贵族，有贵族气派的人，上层人物 | |
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courteous
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| adj.彬彬有礼的，客气的 | |
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discomfort
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| n.不舒服，不安，难过，困难，不方便 | |
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philandering
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| v.调戏，玩弄女性( philander的现在分词 ) | |
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beech
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| n.山毛榉；adj.山毛榉的 | |
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