the duchesse de langeais-第25章

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rute　shows　a　milder　mood　and　does　not　utterly　slay　her；　she　will　love　the　horse；　lion；　bull；　or　what　not；　and　will　speak　of　him　quite　at　her　ease。　　The　Duchess　felt　that　she　was　under　the　lion's　paws；　she　quaked；　but　she　did　not　hate　him。

The　man　and　woman　thus　singularly　placed　with　regard　to　each　other　met　three　times　in　society　during　the　course　of　that　week。　　Each　time；　in　reply　to　coquettish　questioning　glances；　the　Duchess　received　a　respectful　bow；　and　smiles　tinged　with　such　savage　irony；　that　all　her　apprehensions　over　the　card　in　the　morning　were　revived　at　night。　　Our　lives　are　simply　such　as　our　feelings　shape　them　for　us；　and　the　feelings　of　these　two　had　hollowed　out　a　great　gulf　between　them

The　Comtesse　de　Serizy；　the　Marquis　de　Ronquerolles's　sister；　gave　a　great　ball　at　the　beginning　of　the　following　week；　and　Mme　de　Langeais　was　sure　to　go　to　it。　　Armand　was　the　first　person　whom　the　Duchess　saw　when　she　came　into　the　room；　and　this　time　Armand　was　looking　out　for　her；　or　so　she　thought　at　least。　　The　two　exchanged　a　look；　and　suddenly　the　woman　felt　a　cold　perspiration　break　from　every　pore。　　She　had　thought　all　along　that　Montriveau　was　capable　of　taking　reprisals　in　some　unheard…of　way　proportioned　to　their　condition；　and　now　the　revenge　had　been　discovered；　it　was　ready；　heated；　and　boiling。　　Lightnings　flashed　from　the　foiled　lover's　eyes；　his　face　was　radiant　with　exultant　vengeance。　　And　the　Duchess？　　Her　eyes　were　haggard　in　spite　of　her　resolution　to　be　cool　and　insolent。　　She　went　to　take　her　place　beside　the　Comtesse　de　Serizy；　who　could　not　help　exclaiming；　〃Dear　Antoinette！　what　is　the　matter　with　you？　　You　are　enough　to　frighten　one。〃

〃I　shall　be　all　right　after　a　quadrille；〃　she　answered；　giving　a　hand　to　a　young　man　who　came　up　at　that　moment。

Mme　de　Langeais　waltzed　that　evening　with　a　sort　of　excitement　and　transport　which　redoubled　Montriveau's　lowering　looks。　　He　stood　in　front　of　the　line　of　spectators；　who　were　amusing　themselves　by　looking　on。　　Every　time　that　SHE　came　past　him；　his　eyes　darted　down　upon　her　eddying　face；　he　might　have　been　a　tiger　with　the　prey　in　his　grasp。　　The　waltz　came　to　an　end；　Mme　de　Langeais　went　back　to　her　place　beside　the　Countess；　and　Montriveau　never　took　his　eyes　off　her；　talking　all　the　while　with　a　stranger。　

〃One　of　the　things　that　struck　me　most　on　the　journey；〃　he　was　saying　（and　the　Duchess　listened　with　all　her　ears）；　〃was　the　remark　which　the　man　makes　at　Westminster　when　you　are　shown　the　axe　with　which　a　man　in　a　mask　cut　off　Charles　the　First's　head；　so　they　tell　you。　　The　King　made　it　first　of　all　to　some　inquisitive　person；　and　they　repeat　it　still　in　memory　of　him。〃

〃What　does　the　man　say？〃　asked　Mme　de　Serizy。

〃　‘Do　not　touch　the　axe！'　〃　replied　Montriveau；　and　there　was　menace　in　the　sound　of　his　voice。

〃Really；　my　Lord　Marquis；〃　said　Mme　de　Langeais；　〃you　tell　this　old　story　that　everybody　knows　if　they　have　been　to　London；　and　look　at　my　neck　in　such　a　melodramatic　way　that　you　seem　to　me　to　have　an　axe　in　your　hand。〃

The　Duchess　was　in　a　cold　sweat；　but　nevertheless　she　laughed　as　she　spoke　the　last　words。

〃But　circumstances　give　the　story　a　quite　new　application；〃　returned　he。

〃How　so；　pray　tell　me；　for　pity's　sake？〃

〃In　this　way；　madameyou　have　touched　the　axe；〃　said　Montriveau；　lowering　his　voice。

〃What　an　enchanting　prophecy！〃　returned　she；　smiling　with　assumed　grace。　　〃And　when　is　my　head　to　fall？〃

〃I　have　no　wish　to　see　that　pretty　head　of　yours　cut　off。　　I　only　fear　some　great　misfortune　for　you。　　If　your　head　were　clipped　close；　would　you　feel　no　regrets　for　the　dainty　golden　hair　that　you　turn　to　such　good　account？〃

〃There　are　those　for　whom　a　woman　would　love　to　make　such　a　sacrifice；　even　if；　as　often　happens；　it　is　for　the　sake　of　a　man　who　cannot　make　allowances　for　an　outbreak　of　temper。〃

〃Quite　so。　　Well；　and　if　some　wag　were　to　spoil　your　beauty　on　a　sudden　by　some　chemical　process；　and　you；　who　are　but　eighteen　for　us；　were　to　be　a　hundred　years　old？〃

〃Why；　the　smallpox　is　our　Battle　of　Waterloo；　monsieur；〃　she　interrupted。　　〃After　it　is　over　we　find　out　those　who　love　us　sincerely。〃

〃Would　you　not　regret　the　lovely　face　that？〃

〃Oh！　indeed　I　should；　but　less　for　my　own　sake　than　for　the　sake　of　someone　else　whose　delight　it　might　have　been。　　And；　after　all；　if　I　were　loved；　always　loved；　and　truly　loved；　what　would　my　beauty　matter　to　me？What　do　you　say；　Clara？〃

〃It　is　a　dangerous　speculation；〃　replied　Mme　de　Serizy。

〃Is　it　permissible　to　ask　His　Majesty　the　King　of　Sorcerers　when　I　made　the　mistake　of　touching　the　axe；　since　I　have　not　been　to　London　as　yet？〃

〃NOT　SO；〃　he　answered　in　English；　with　a　burst　of　ironical　laughter。

〃And　when　will　the　punishment　begin？〃

At　this　Montriveau　coolly　took　out　his　watch；　and　ascertained　the　hour　with　a　truly　appalling　air　of　conviction。

〃A　dreadful　misfortune　will　befall　you　before　this　day　is　out。〃

〃I　am　not　a　child　to　be　easily　frightened；　or　rather；　I　am　a　child　ignorant　of　danger；〃　said　the　Duchess。　　〃I　shall　dance　now　without　fear　on　the　edge　of　the　precipice。〃

〃I　am　delighted　to　know　that　you　have　so　much　strength　of　character；〃　he　answered；　as　he　watched　her　go　to　take　her　place　in　a　square　dance。

But　the　Duchess；　in　spite　of　her　apparent　contempt　for　Armand's　dark　prophecies；　was　really　frightened。　　Her　late　lover's　presence　weighed　upon　her　morally　and　physically　with　a　sense　of　oppression　that　scarcely　ceased　when　he　left　the　ballroom。　　And　yet　when　she　had　drawn　freer　breath；　and　enjoyed　the　relief　for　a　moment；　she　found　herself　regretting　the　sensation　of　dread；　so　greedy　of　extreme　sensations　is　the　feminine　nature。　　The　regret　was　not　love；　but　it　was　certainly　akin　to　other　feelings　which　prepare　the　way　for　love。　　And　thenas　if　the　impression　which　Montriveau　had　made　upon　her　were　suddenly　revivedshe　recollected　his　air　of　conviction　as　he　took　out　his　watch；　and　in　a　sudden　spasm　of　dread　she　went　out。

By　this　time　it　was　about　midnight。　　One　of　her　servants；　waiting　with　her　pelisse；　went　down　to　order　her　carriage。　　On　her　way　home　she　fell　naturally　enough　to　musing　over　M。　de　Montriveau's　prediction。　　Arrived　in　her　own　courtyard；　as　she　supposed；　she　entered　a　vestibule　almost　like　that　of　her　own　hotel；　and　suddenly　saw　that　the　staircase　was　different。　　She　was　in　a　strange　house。　　Turning　to　call　her　servants；　she　was　attacked　by　several　men；　who　rapidly　flung　a　handkerchief　over　her　mouth；　bound　her　hand　and　foot；　and　carried　her　off。　　She　shrieked　aloud。

〃Madame；　our　orders　are　to　kill　you　if　you　scream；〃　a　voice　said　in　her　ear。

So　great　was　the　Duchess's　terror；　that　she　could　never　recollect　how　nor　by　whom　she　was　transported。　　When　she　came　to　herself；　she　was　lying　on　a　couch　in　a　bachelor's　lodging；　her　hands　and　feet　tied　with　silken　cords。　　In　spite　of　herself；　she　shrieked　aloud　as　she　looked　round　and　met　Armand　de　Montriveau's　eyes。　　He　was　sitting　in　his　dressing…gown；　quietly　smoking　a　cigar　in　his　armchair。

〃Do　not　cry　out；　Mme　la　Duchesse；〃　he　said；　coolly　taking　the　cigar　out　of　his　mouth；　〃I　have　a　headache。　　Besides；　I　will　untie　you。　　But　listen　attentively　to　what　I　have　the　honour　to　say　to　you。〃

Very　carefully　he　untied　the　knots　that　bound　her　feet。

〃What　would　be　the　use　of　calling　out？　　Nobody　can　hear　your　cries。　　You　are　too　well　bred　to　make　any　unnecessary　fuss。　　If　you　do　not　stay　quietly；　if　you　insist　upon　a　struggle　with　me；　I　shall　tie　your　hands　and　feet　again。　　All　things　considered；　I　think　that　you　have　self…respect　enough　to　stay　on　this　sofa　as　if　you　were　lying　on　your　own　at　home；　cold　as　ever；　if　you　will。

You　have　made　me　shed　many　tears　on　this　couch；　tears　that　I　hid　from　all　other　eyes。〃

While　Montriveau　was　speaking；　the　Duchess　glanced　about　her；　it　was　a　woman's　glance；　a　stolen　look　that　saw　all　things　and　seemed　to　see　nothing。　　She　was　much　pleased　with　the　room。　　It　was　rather　like　a　monk's　cell。　　The　man's　character　and　thoughts　seemed　to　pervade　it。　　No　decoration　of　any　kind　broke　the　grey　painted　surface　of　the　walls。　　A　green　carpet　covered　the　floor。　　A　black　sofa；　a　table　littered　with　paper