Chapter 65 A Conjugal Scene
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AT
THE Place Louis XV the three young people separated--that is to say,
Morrel went to the Boulevards, Chateau-Renaud to the Pont de la
Revolution, and Debray to the Quai. Most probably Morrel and Chateau-Renaud
returned to their "domestic hearths," as they say in the gallery
of the Chamber in well-turned speeches, and in the theatre of the Rue
Richelieu in well-written pieces; but it was not the case with Debray.
When he reached the wicket of the Louvre, he turned to the left, galloped
across the Carrousel, passed through the Rue Saint-Roch, and, issuing from
the Rue de la Michodiииre, he arrived at M. Danglars'
door just at the same time that Villefort's landau, after having deposited
him and his wife at the Faubourg St. Honorиж, stopped to leave the baroness at her own house.
Debray, with the air of a man familiar with the house, entered first into
the court, threw his bridle into the hands of a footman, and returned to
the door to receive Madame Danglars, to whom he offered his arm, to
conduct her to her apartments. The gate once closed, and Debray and the
baroness alone in the court, he asked,--"What was the matter with
you, Hermine? and why were you so affected at that story, or rather fable,
which the count related?" "Because
I have been in such shocking spirits all the evening, my friend,"
said the baroness. "No,
Hermine," replied Debray; "you cannot make me believe that; on
the contrary, you were in excellent spirits when you arrived at the
count's. M. Danglars was disagreeable, certainly, but I know how much you
care for his ill-humor. Some one has vexed you; I will allow no one to
annoy you." "You
are deceived, Lucien, I assure you," replied Madame Danglars;
"and what I have told you is really the case, added to the ill-humor
you remarked, but which I did not think it worth while to allude to."
It was evident that Madame Danglars was suffering from that nervous
irritability which women frequently cannot account for even to themselves;
or that, as Debray had guessed, she had experienced some secret agitation
that she would not acknowledge to any one. Being a man who knew that the
former of these symptoms was one of the inherent penalties of womanhood,
he did not then press his inquiries, but waited for a more appropriate
opportunity when he should again interrogate her, or receive an avowal
proprio motu. At the door of her apartment the baroness met Mademoiselle
Cornelie, her confidential maid. "What is my daughter doing?"
asked Madame Danglars. "She
practiced all the evening, and then went to bed," replied
Mademoiselle Cornelie. "Yet
I think I hear her piano." "It
is Mademoiselle Louise d'Armilly, who is playing while Mademoiselle
Danglars is in bed." "Well,"
said Madame Danglars, "come and undress me." They entered the
bedroom. Debray stretched himself upon a large couch, and Madame Danglars
passed into her dressing-room with Mademoiselle Cornelie. "My dear M.
Lucien," said Madame Danglars through the door, "you are always
complaining that Eugижnie
will not address a word to you." "Madame,"
said Lucien, playing with a little dog, who, recognizing him as a friend
of the house, expected to be caressed, "I am not the only one who
makes similar complaints, I think I heard Morcerf say that he could not
extract a word from his betrothed." "True,"
said Madame Danglars; "yet I think this will all pass off, and that
you will one day see her enter your study." "My
study?" "At
least that of the minister." "Why
so!" "To
ask for an engagement at the Opera. Really, I never saw such an
infatuation for music; it is quite ridiculous for a young lady of
fashion." Debray smiled. "Well," said he, "let her
come, with your consent and that of the baron, and we will try and give
her an engagement, though we are very poor to pay such talent as
hers." "Go,
Cornelie," said Madame Danglars, "I do not require you any
longer." Cornelie
obeyed, and the next minute Madame Danglars left her room in a charming
loose dress, and came and sat down close to Debray. Then she began
thoughtfully to caress the little spaniel. Lucien looked at her for a
moment in silence. "Come, Hermine," he said, after a short time,
"answer candidly,--something vexes you--is it not so?" "Nothing,"
answered the baroness. And
yet, as she could scarcely breathe, she rose and went towards a
looking-glass. "I am frightful to-night," she said. Debray rose,
smiling, and was about to contradict the baroness upon this latter point,
when the door opened suddenly. M. Danglars appeared; Debray reseated
himself. At the noise of the door Madame Danglars turned round, and looked
upon her husband with an astonishment she took no trouble to conceal.
"Good-evening, madame," said the banker; "good-evening, M.
Debray." Probably
the baroness thought this unexpected visit signified a desire to make up
for the sharp words he had uttered during the day. Assuming a dignified
air, she turned round to Debray, without answering her husband. "Read
me something, M. Debray," she said. Debray, who was slightly
disturbed at this visit, recovered himself when he saw the calmness of the
baroness, and took up a book marked by a mother-of-pearl knife inlaid with
gold. "Excuse me," said the banker, "but you will tire
yourself, baroness, by such late hours, and M. Debray lives some distance
from here." Debray
was petrified, not only to hear Danglars speak so calmly and politely, but
because it was apparent that beneath outward politeness there really
lurked a determined spirit of opposition to anything his wife might wish
to do. The baroness was also surprised, and showed her astonishment by a
look which would doubtless have had some effect upon her husband if he had
not been intently occupied with the paper, where he was looking to see the
closing stock quotations. The result was, that the proud look entirely
failed of its purpose. "M.
Lucien," said the baroness, "I assure you I have no desire to
sleep, and that I have a thousand things to tell you this evening, which
you must listen to, even though you slept while hearing me." "I
am at your service, madame," replied Lucien coldly. "My
dear M. Debray," said the banker, "do not kill yourself to-night
listening to the follies of Madame Danglars, for you can hear them as well
to-morrow; but I claim to-night and will devote it, if you will allow me,
to talk over some serious matters with my wife." This time the blow
was so well aimed, and hit so directly, that Lucien and the baroness were
staggered, and they interrogated each other with their eyes, as if to seek
help against this aggression, but the irresistible will of the master of
the house prevailed, and the husband was victorious. "Do
not think I wish to turn you out, my dear Debray," continued Danglars;
"oh, no, not at all. An unexpected occurrence forces me to ask my
wife to have a little conversation with me; it is so rarely I make such a
request, I am sure you cannot grudge it to me." Debray muttered
something, bowed and went out, knocking himself against the edge of the
door, like Nathan in Athalie. "It
is extraordinary," he said, when the door was closed behind him,
"how easily these husbands, whom we ridicule, gain an advantage over
us." Lucien
having left, Danglars took his place on the sofa, closed the open book,
and placing himself in a dreadfully dictatorial attitude, he began playing
with the dog; but the animal, not liking him as well as Debray, and
attempting to bite him, Danglars seized him by the skin of his neck and
threw him upon a couch on the other side of the room. The animal uttered a
cry during the transit, but, arrived at its destination, it crouched
behind the cushions, and stupefied at such unusual treatment remained
silent and motionless. "Do you know, sir," asked the baroness,
"that you are improving? Generally you are only rude, but to-night
you are brutal." "It
is because I am in a worse humor than usual," replied Danglars.
Hermine looked at the banker with supreme disdain. These glances
frequently exasperated the pride of Danglars, but this evening he took no
notice of them. "And
what have I to do with your ill-humor?" said the baroness, irritated
at the impassibility of her husband; "do these things concern me?
Keep your ill-humor at home in your money boxes, or, since you have clerks
whom you pay, vent it upon them." "Not
so," replied Danglars; "your advice is wrong, so I shall not
follow it. My money boxes are my Pactolus, as, I think, M. Demoustier
says, and I will not retard its course, or disturb its calm. My clerks are
honest men, who earn my fortune, whom I pay much below their deserts, if I
may value them according to what they bring in; therefore I shall not get
into a passion with them; those with whom I will be in a passion are those
who eat my dinners, mount my horses, and exhaust my fortune." "And
pray who are the persons who exhaust your fortune? Explain yourself more
clearly, I beg, sir." "Oh,
make yourself easy!--I am not speaking riddles, and you will soon know
what I mean. The people who exhaust my fortune are those who draw out
700,000 francs in the course of an hour." "I
do not understand you, sir," said the baroness, trying to disguise
the agitation of her voice and the flush of her face. "You understand
me perfectly, on the contrary," said Danglars: "but, if you will
persist, I will tell you that I have just lost 700,000 francs upon the
Spanish loan." "And
pray," asked the baroness, "am I responsible for this
loss?" "Why
not?" "Is
it my fault you have lost 700,000 francs?" "Certainly
it is not mine." "Once
for all, sir," replied the baroness sharply, "I tell you I will
not hear cash named; it is a style of language I never heard in the house
of my parents or in that of my first husband." "Oh,
I can well believe that, for neither of them was worth a penny." "The
better reason for my not being conversant with the slang of the bank,
which is here dinning in my ears from morning to night; that noise of
jingling crowns, which are constantly being counted and re-counted, is
odious to me. I only know one thing I dislike more, which is the sound of
your voice." "Really?"
said Danglars. "Well, this surprises me, for I thought you took the
liveliest interest in all my affairs!" "I?
What could put such an idea into your head?" "Yourself."
"Ah?--what
next?" "Most
assuredly." "I
should like to know upon what occasion?" "Oh,
mon Dieu, that is very easily done. Last February you were the first who
told me of the Haitian funds. You had dreamed that a ship had entered the
harbor at Havre, that this ship brought news that a payment we had looked
upon as lost was going to be made. I know how clear-sighted your dreams
are; I therefore purchased immediately as many shares as I could of the
Haitian debt, and I gained 400,000 francs by it, of which 100,000 have
been honestly paid to you. You spent it as you pleased; that was your
business. In March there was a question about a grant to a railway. Three
companies presented themselves, each offering equal securities. You told
me that your instinct,--and although you pretend to know nothing about
speculations, I think on the contrary, that your comprehension is very
clear upon certain affairs,--well, you told me that your instinct led you
to believe the grant would be given to the company called the Southern. I
bought two thirds of the shares of that company; as you had foreseen, the
shares trebled in value, and I picked up a million, from which 250,000
francs were paid to you for pin-money. How have you spent this 250,000
francs?--it is no business of mine." "When
are you coming to the point?" cried the baroness, shivering with
anger and impatience. "Patience,
madame, I am coming to it." "That's
fortunate." "In
April you went to dine at the minister's. You heard a private conversation
respecting Spanish affairs--on the expulsion of Don Carlos. I bought some
Spanish shares. The expulsion took place and I pocketed 600,000 francs the
day Charles V repassed the Bidassoa. Of these 600,000 francs you took
50,000 crowns. They were yours, you disposed of them according to your
fancy, and I asked no questions; but it is not the less true that you have
this year received 500,000 livres." "Well,
sir, and what then?" "Ah,
yes, it was just after this that you spoiled everything." "Really,
your manner of speaking"-- "It
expresses my meaning, and that is all I want. Well, three days after that
you talked politics with M. Debray, and you fancied from his words that
Don Carlos had returned to Spain. Well, I sold my shares, the news got
out, and I no longer sold--I gave them away, next day I find the news was
false, and by this false report I have lost 700,000 francs." "Well?"
"Well,
since I gave you a fourth of my gains, I think you owe me a fourth of my
losses; the fourth of 700,000 francs is 175,000 francs." "What
you say is absurd, and I cannot see why M. Debray's name is mixed up in
this affair." "Because
if you do not possess the 175,000 francs I reclaim, you must have lent
them to your friends, and M. Debray is one of your friends." "For
shame!" exclaimed the baroness. "Oh,
let us have no gestures, no screams, no modern drama, or you will oblige
me to tell you that I see Debray leave here, pocketing the whole of the
500,000 livres you have handed over to him this year, while he smiles to
himself, saying that he has found what the most skilful players have never
discovered--that is, a roulette where he wins without playing, and is no
loser when he loses." The baroness became enraged.
"Wretch!" she cried, "will you dare to tell me you did not
know what you now reproach me with?" "I
do not say that I did know it, and I do not say that I did not know it. I
merely tell you to look into my conduct during the last four years that we
have ceased to be husband and wife, and see whether it has not always been
consistent. Some time after our rupture, you wished to study music, under
the celebrated baritone who made such a successful appearance at the
Theatre Italien; at the same time I felt inclined to learn dancing of the
danseuse who acquired such a reputation in London. This cost me, on your
account and mine, 100,000 francs. I said nothing, for we must have peace
in the house; and 100,000 francs for a lady and gentleman to be properly
instructed in music and dancing are not too much. Well, you soon become
tired of singing, and you take a fancy to study diplomacy with the
minister's secretary. You understand, it signifies nothing to me so long
as you pay for your lessons out of your own cashbox. But to-day I find you
are drawing on mine, and that your apprenticeship may cost me 700,000
francs per month. Stop there, madame, for this cannot last. Either the
diplomatist must give his lessons gratis, and I will tolerate him, or he
must never set his foot again in my house;--do you understand, madame?"
"Oh,
this is too much," cried Hermine, choking, "you are worse than
despicable." "But,"
continued Danglars, "I find you did not even pause there"-- "Insults!"
"You
are right; let us leave these facts alone, and reason coolly. I have never
interfered in your affairs excepting for your good; treat me in the same
way. You say you have nothing to do with my cash-box. Be it so. Do as you
like with your own, but do not fill or empty mine. Besides, how do I know
that this was not a political trick, that the minister enraged at seeing
me in the opposition, and jealous of the popular sympathy I excite, has
not concerted with M. Debray to ruin me?" "A
probable thing!" "Why
not? Who ever heard of such an occurrence as this?--a false telegraphic
despatch--it is almost impossible for wrong signals to be made as they
were in the last two telegrams. It was done on purpose for me--I am sure
of it." "Sir,"
said the baroness humbly, "are you not aware that the man employed
there was dismissed, that they talked of going to law with him, that
orders were issued to arrest him and that this order would have been put
into execution if he had not escaped by flight, which proves that he was
either mad or guilty? It was a mistake." "Yes,
which made fools laugh, which caused the minister to have a sleepless
night, which has caused the minister's secretaries to blacken several
sheets of paper, but which has cost me 700,000 francs." "But,
sir," said Hermine suddenly, "if all this is, as you say, caused
by M. Debray, why, instead of going direct to him, do you come and tell me
of it? Why, to accuse the man, do you address the woman?" "Do
I know M. Debray?--do I wish to know him?--do I wish to know that he gives
advice?--do I wish to follow it?--do I speculate? No; you do all this, not
I." "Still
it seems to me, that as you profit by it--" Danglars
shrugged his shoulders. "Foolish
creature," he exclaimed. "Women fancy they have talent because
they have managed two or three intrigues without being the talk of Paris!
But know that if you had even hidden your irregularities from your
husband, who has but the commencement of the art--for generally husbands
will not see--you would then have been but a faint imitation of most of
your friends among the women of the world. But it has not been so with
me,--I see, and always have seen, during the last sixteen years. You may,
perhaps, have hidden a thought; but not a step, not an action, not a
fault, has escaped me, while you flattered yourself upon your address, and
firmly believed you had deceived me. What has been the result?--that,
thanks to my pretended ignorance, there is none of your friends, from M.
de Villefort to M. Debray, who has not trembled before me. There is not
one who has not treated me as the master of the house,--the only title I
desire with respect to you; there is not one, in fact, who would have
dared to speak of me as I have spoken of them this day. I will allow you
to make me hateful, but I will prevent your rendering me ridiculous, and,
above all, I forbid you to ruin me." The
baroness had been tolerably composed until the name of Villefort had been
pronounced; but then she became pale, and, rising, as if touched by a
spring, she stretched out her hands as though conjuring an apparition; she
then took two or three steps towards her husband, as though to tear the
secret from him, of which he was ignorant, or which he withheld from some
odious calculation,--odious, as all his calculations were. "M. de
Villefort!--What do you mean?" "I
mean that M. de Nargonne, your first husband, being neither a philosopher
nor a banker, or perhaps being both, and seeing there was nothing to be
got out of a king's attorney, died of grief or anger at finding, after an
absence of nine months, that you had been enceinte six. I am brutal,--I
not only allow it, but boast of it; it is one of the reasons of my success
in commercial business. Why did he kill himself instead of you? Because he
had no cash to save. My life belongs to my cash. M. Debray has made me
lose 700,000 francs; let him bear his share of the loss, and we will go on
as before; if not, let him become bankrupt for the 250,000 livres, and do
as all bankrupts do--disappear. He is a charming fellow, I allow, when his
news is correct; but when it is not, there are fifty others in the world
who would do better than he." Madame
Danglars was rooted to the spot; she made a violent effort to reply to
this last attack, but she fell upon a chair thinking of Villefort, of the
dinner scene, of the strange series of misfortunes which had taken place
in her house during the last few days, and changed the usual calm of her
establishment to a scene of scandalous debate. Danglars did not even look
at her, though she did her best to faint. He shut the bedroom door after
him, without adding another word, and returned to his apartments; and when
Madame Danglars recovered from her half-fainting condition, she could
almost believe that she had had a disagreeable dream. |
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