Montauran at last made a painful effort and said, in a muffled voice, "Will you never forgive me?""Love forgives nothing, or it forgives all," she said, coldly."But,"she added, noticing his joyful look, "it must be love."She took the count's arm once more and moved forward into a small boudoir which adjoined the cardroom.The marquis followed her.
"Will you not hear me?" he said.
"One would really think, monsieur," she replied, "that I had come here to meet you, and not to vindicate my own self-respect.If you do not cease this odious pursuit I shall leave the ballroom.""Ah!" he cried, recollecting one of the crazy actions of the last Duc de Lorraine, "let me speak to you so long as I can hold this live coal in my hand."He stooped to the hearth and picking up a brand held it tightly.
Mademoiselle de Verneuil flushed, took her arm from that of the count, and looked at the marquis in amazement.The count softly withdrew, leaving them alone together.So crazy an action shook Marie's heart, for there is nothing so persuasive in love as courageous folly.
"You only prove to me," she said, trying to make him throw away the brand, "that you are willing to make me suffer cruelly.You are extreme in everything.On the word of a fool and the slander of a woman you suspected that one who had just saved your life was capable of betraying you.""Yes," he said, smiling, "I have been very cruel to you; but nevertheless, forget it; I shall never forget it.Hear me.I have been shamefully deceived; but so many circumstances on that fatal day told against you--""And those circumstances were stronger than your love?"He hesitated; she made a motion of contempt, and rose.
"Oh, Marie.I shall never cease to believe in you now.""Then throw that fire away.You are mad.Open your hand; I insist upon it."He took delight in still resisting the soft efforts of her fingers, but she succeeded in opening the hand she would fain have kissed.
"What good did that do you?" she said, as she tore her handkerchief and laid it on the burn, which the marquis covered with his glove.
Madame du Gua had stolen softly into the cardroom, watching the lovers with furtive eyes, but escaping theirs adroitly; it was, however, impossible for her to understand their conversation from their actions.
"If all that they said of me was true you must admit that I am avenged at this moment," said Marie, with a look of malignity which startled the marquis.
"What feeling brought you here?" he asked.
"Do you suppose, my dear friend, that you can despise a woman like me with impunity? I came here for your sake and for my own," she continued, after a pause, laying her hand on the hilt of rubies in her bosom and showing him the blade of her dagger.
"What does all that mean?" thought Madame du Gua.
"But," she continued, "you still love me; at any rate, you desire me, and the folly you have just committed," she added, taking his hand, "proves it to me.I will again be that I desired to be; and I return to Fougeres happy.Love absolves everything.You love me; I have regained the respect of the man who represents to me the whole world, and I can die.""Then you still love me?" said the marquis.
"Have I said so?" she replied with a scornful look, delighting in the torture she was ****** him endure."I have run many risks to come here.I have saved Monsieur de Bauvan's life, and he, more grateful than others, offers me in return his fortune and his name.You have never even thought of doing that."The marquis, bewildered by these words, stifled the worst anger he had ever felt, supposing that the count had played him false.He made no answer.
"Ah! you reflect," she said, bitterly.
"Mademoiselle," replied the young man, "your doubts justify mine.""Let us leave this room," said Mademoiselle de Verneuil, catching sight of a corner of Madame du Gua's gown, and rising.But the wish to reduce her rival to despair was too strong, and she made no further motion to go.
"Do you mean to drive me to hell?" cried the marquis, seizing her hand and pressing it violently.
"Did you not drive me to hell five days ago? are you not leaving me at this very moment uncertain whether your love is sincere or not?""But how do I know whether your revenge may not lead you to obtain my life to tarnish it, instead of killing me?""Ah! you do not love me! you think of yourself and not of me!" she said angrily, shedding a few tears.
The coquettish creature well knew the power of her eyes when moistened by tears.
"Well, then," he cried, beside himself, "take my life, but dry those tears.""Oh, my love! my love!" she exclaimed in a stifled voice: "those are the words, the accents, the looks I have longed for, to allow me to prefer your happiness to mine.But," she added, "I ask one more proof of your love, which you say is so great.I wish to stay here only so long as may be needed to show the company that you are mine.I will not even drink a glass of water in the house of a woman who has twice tried to kill me, who is now, perhaps, plotting mischief against us,"and she showed the marquis the floating corner of Madame du Gua's drapery.Then she dried her eyes and put her lips to the ear of the young man, who quivered as he felt the caress of her warm breath."See that everything is prepared for my departure," she said; "you shall take me yourself to Fougeres and there only will I tell you if I love you.For the second time I trust you.Will you trust me a second time?""Ah, Marie, you have brought me to a point where I know not what I do.
