The Seven Cardinal Sins: Envy and Indolence

"Yes, and this young woman?"

"Is as beautiful as she was, perhaps even more so."

"And her figure?"

"Is perfect."

"That is what Raoul told me after he met her in the fields the other day. But who is that big sallow boy who was with her? Some scallawag of a brother probably. It might be a good idea to get him out of the way by giving him a position as clerk in the steward's office with a salary of twelve or fifteen hundred francs a year."

"Good heavens, madame!" exclaimed Zerbinette, springing up in alarm, "there's somebody in the cave. Didn't you hear that noise?"

"Yes, I heard it," replied the intrepid dowager, "what of it?"

"Oh, madame, let us get away as quick as we can."

"I sha'n't do anything of the kind."

"But that noise, madame."

"He, he!" laughed the countess. "Perhaps it is the soul of the poor president come back to count one, two, three, four, etc. Sit down, and don't interrupt me again."

"You have always had the courage of a dragon, madame."

"There's no cause for alarm, you goose. Some osprey or some wild animal may have sought shelter there. I want to know who that big hulking boy was that Raoul saw with that Bastien woman, – her brother, eh?"

"No, madame, her son."

"Her son; why, in that case – "

"She was married when she was very young, and she is so admirably preserved that she doesn't look a day over twenty."

"That must be so, for Raoul took a desperate fancy to her. 'She has big, dark blue eyes, grandmother,' he said to me, 'a waist one can span with his two hands, and features as regular as those on an antique cameo. Only these plebeians are so little versed in the customs of good society that this one opened her big eyes in astonishment, merely because I was polite enough to take her a mantle she had dropped.' 'If she is as pretty as you say, you young simpleton, you ought to have kept the mantle, and taken it to her house. That would have gained you an entrance there.' 'But, grandmother,' replied the dear boy, very sensibly, 'it was by returning the mantle I found out that she was so pretty.'"

"Oh, well, M. Raoul could easily have gone to her house a few days afterward. She would have been delighted to see him, even if it were only to make all the bourgeoisie in the country, wild with envy."

"That is exactly what I told the dear child, but he did not dare to venture."

"Give him a little time, and he'll get his courage up, never fear."

"I tell you, my girl," resumed the dowager, after quite a long silence, as she slowly and thoughtfully took another pinch of snuff, "I tell you that the more I think of it, the more convinced I am that for many reasons this little Bastien would just suit the dear boy, that she would be a perfect godsend to him, in fact."

"I think so, too, madame."

"So we had better strike while the iron is hot," continued the dowager. "What time is it, Zerbinette?"

"Half-past four, madame," said the attendant, glancing at her watch.

"That gives us plenty of time. This morning when my grandson left to spend the day with the Merinvilles at Boncour, I promised him I would meet him at the lake at five o'clock, so we must make haste."

"But, madame, you forget that M. Raoul sent his groom to tell you that he was going to pay a call at Montel after leaving Boncour, and that he would not return to the château before seven."

"Yes, yes, you are right, girl. I must give up seeing him immediately then, for to return from Montel he will have to take the Vieille Coupe road, and that is too steep for me, for I'm a perfect coward in a carriage; besides, as it is only half-past four, I should have to drive too far to meet him, so I will postpone my conversation on the subject of the hermitess until this evening. Give me your arm, Zerbinette, and let us start, but first let me take another look at this famous rock."

"Don't go too near though, madame, for Heaven's sake."

But in spite of Zerbinette's protest she walked up to the rock, and, casting an almost melancholy glance at the wild spot, exclaimed:

"Ah, there is no change in the rocks. They look exactly as they did sixty years ago."

Then after a moment's silence, turning gaily to Zerbinette, who was holding herself prudently aloof, the dowager added:

"That story of the osprey has recalled hundreds of other pleasant reminiscences. I've a great mind to amuse myself by writing my memoirs some day. They might serve both to instruct and edify my grandson," the octogenarian continued, with a hearty laugh, in which Zerbinette joined.

For several minutes the sound of their laughter could be distinctly heard as the two slowly wended their way down the path.

When the sound had entirely died away, Frederick, his face livid, his expression frightful to behold, emerged from the cave where he had heard every word of the conversation between the dowager-marquise and Zerbinette, and, gun in hand, hastened toward another part of the forest.

CHAPTER XIII

THE Vieille Coupe road, which Raoul de Pont Brillant would be obliged to take on his return from the Château de Montel homeward, was a sort of deep hollow way, with high banks covered with tall pine-trees, whose heads formed such an impenetrable dome that the light was dim there even at noontime, and at sunset it was so dark that two men who met there would not be able to distinguish each other's features.

It was about six o'clock in the evening when Raoul de Pont Brillant turned in this path, which seemed all the darker and more gloomy from the fact that the highway he had just left was still lighted by the rays reflected from the setting sun. He was alone, having sent his groom to the château to inform the marquise of his change of plans.

He had proceeded only twenty yards when his vision became sufficiently accustomed to the obscurity to enable him to distinguish a human being standing motionless in the middle of the road, a short distance in front of him.

"Hallo there, get to one side of the road or the other," he shouted.

"One word, M. le Marquis de Pont Brillant," responded a voice.

"What do you want?" asked Raoul, checking his horse and leaning over upon his saddle, in a vain effort to distinguish the features of his interlocutor. "Who are you? What do you want?"

"M. de Pont Brillant, did you receive a note this morning requesting you to meet some one at Grand Sire's Rock?"

"No; for I left Pont Brillant at eight o'clock; but once more, what does all this mean? Who the devil are you?"

"I am the writer of the letter sent you this morning."

"Ah, well, my friend, you can – "

"I am not your friend," interrupted the voice, "I am your enemy."

"What's that you say?" exclaimed Raoul, in surprise.

"I say that I am your enemy."

"Indeed!" retorted Raoul, in a half-amused, half-contemptuous tone, for he was naturally very brave. "And what is your name, Mister Enemy?"

"My name is a matter of no consequence."

"Probably not, but why the devil do you stop me in the road at nightfall, then? Ah, I remember you said you wrote to me."

"Yes."

"To tell me what?"

"That you were a coward if you – "

"Wretch!" exclaimed Raoul, starting his horse.

But Madame Bastien's son struck the horse in the head with the barrel of his gun, forcing him to stop.

Raoul, a trifle startled at first, but really curious to know what the stranger was coming at, calmed himself, and remarked, coldly:

"You did me the honour to write to me, you say?"

"Yes, to tell you that if you were not a coward, you would come to Grand Sire's Rock to-day with your gun loaded like mine."

"And may I ask what we were to do with our guns?"

"We were to place ourselves ten paces apart, and then fire at each other."

"And for what object may I ask?"

"So I would kill you or you would kill me."

"That would probably have been the case at that distance unless we were very poor shots. But if one is so anxious to kill people, one should at least tell me why."

"I want to kill you – because I hate you."

"Bah!"

"Do not sneer, M. de Pont Brillant, do not sneer."

"It is very difficult not to, but I'll try simply to oblige you. You hate me, you say, and why?"

"The cause of my hatred concerns you as little as my name."

"Do you really think so?"

"I do."

"Well, you hate me, you say? What of it?"

"You must kill me or I shall kill you."

"That seems to be a settled thing with you. Where are we to fight?"

"Here, right here and now."

"But it isn't light enough to see."

"There is no need of its being light enough to see."

"But what are we to fight with?"

"With my gun."

"One gun?"

"Yes."

"That's a strange idea. How are we to do it?"

"Get down off your horse."

"And after that?"

"Pick up a handful of stones out of the road."

"Stones! So it is with stones that we are going to fight. It reminds me of the famous battle between David and Goliath."

"I said that you were to pick up a handful of stones out of the road. The darkness will prevent you from counting the stones, and you will hold them in your closed hand. The one who guesses the number correctly is to have the gun. He will place it against the other's breast and fire. You see that no daylight is needed for that, M. de Pont Brillant."

Frederick's manner was so resolute and his voice so incisive that the young marquis, strange as the whole affair seemed to be, decided that the speaker was really in earnest; then, suddenly remembering a conversation that had taken place in his grandmother's drawing-room, he burst into a hearty laugh and exclaimed:

"This is a good joke, upon my word. I understand everything now."

"Explain, M. de Pont Brillant."

"Last night at the château they were all telling stories about robbers and midnight attacks, and they laughed about what I would do under such circumstances. I talked a little boastfully of my courage, I suppose, so they concocted this little scheme to test it, for they knew that I would have to pass through this road in returning from Montel. You can tell the persons that paid you to waylay me that I behaved myself very creditably, for, upon my word as a gentleman, I took the thing seriously at first. Good night, my worthy friend. Let me pass now, for it is getting late, and I shall scarcely have time to reach Pont Brillant and dress before dinner."

"This is no joke, M. de Pont Brillant, nor is it a test. You will not be allowed to pass, and you are going to get down off your horse."

"I have had enough of this, I tell you," exclaimed Raoul, imperiously. "You have earned your money. Now stand aside so I can pass."

"Dismount, M. de Pont Brillant, dismount, I say!"

"So much the worse for you, I'll ride right over you," cried Raoul, now thoroughly enraged.

And he urged his horse on.

But Frederick seized the horse by the bridle, and with a violent jerk forced the animal back upon its haunches.

"How dare you touch my horse, you scoundrel!" roared Raoul, raising his whip and striking at random, but the blow fell only upon empty air.

"I consider the blow and the insulting epithet received, M. de Pont Brillant, and now you will indeed be a coward if you don't dismount at once and give me the satisfaction I demand."

As we have remarked before, Raoul was naturally brave; he was also as experienced in the ways of the world as most young men of twenty-five, so this time he answered very seriously and with remarkable good sense and firmness:

"You have charged me with cowardice, and you have grossly insulted me besides, so I tried to chastise you as one chastises a vagabond who insults you on a street corner. Unfortunately the darkness rendered my attempts futile, and you will be obliged to take the will for the deed. If this doesn't satisfy you, you know who I am and you can come to the Château de Pont Brillant to-morrow with two honourable men, if you know any, which I doubt very much, judging from your actions. These gentlemen can confer with the Vicomte de Marcilly and M. le Duc de Morville, my seconds. Your seconds will tell my seconds your name and the cause of the challenge you say you sent me this morning. These gentlemen will decide between them what should be done. I am perfectly willing to abide by their decision. That is the way such affairs are managed among well-bred people. As you don't know, I will endeavour to teach you."

"And you refuse to fight me here and now?"

"I do, most decidedly."

"Take care. Either you or I will remain here!"

"Then it will be you, so good night," said Raoul.

As he spoke he plunged his spurs into his horse's sides. The animal made a powerful spring forward, hurling Frederick to the ground.

When Madame Bastien's son, still stunned from his fall, staggered to his feet, he heard the sound of Raoul's horse's hoofs already dying away in the distance.

After a brief moment of stupor, Frederick uttered a cry of ferocious joy, and, picking up his gun, climbed one of the almost perpendicular banks on the side of the road with the aid of the pine saplings, and plunged headlong into the forest.

CHAPTER XIV

WHILE these events were transpiring in the forest of Pont Brillant, Madame Bastien was a prey to the most poignant anxiety. Faithful to the promise she had made Frederick the evening before, she waited until nearly one o'clock in the afternoon before entering her son's room. Believing he was still sleeping, she hoped he would derive much benefit from this restful slumber.

The young mother was in her chamber, which adjoined her son's room, listening every now and then for some sound that would seem to indicate that her son was awake, when Marguerite, their old servant, came in to ask for some instructions.

"Speak low, and close the door carefully," said Marie. "I don't want my son waked."

"M. Frederick, madame; why, he went out this morning at sunrise with his gun."

To rush into her son's bedroom was the work of only an instant.

Frederick was not there; his gun, too, was missing.

Several hours passed, but Frederick did not appear, and the light of the dull November day was already beginning to wane when Marguerite came running in.

"Madame, madame," she exclaimed, "here is Father André! He saw M. Frederick this morning."

"You saw my son this morning, André? What did he say to you? Where is he now?" cried Madame Bastien, eagerly.

"Yes, madame, M. Frederick came to me for some bullets about sunrise this morning."

"Bullets? What did he want of them?" asked the anxious mother, trying to drive away the horrible suspicion that had suddenly presented itself to her mind. "Did he want them for hunting?"

"Of course, madame; for M. Frederick told me that Jean François – you know Jean François, the farmer near Coudraie?"

"Yes, yes, I know; go on."

"It seems that Jean François told M. Frederick yesterday that a wild boar got into his garden a night or two ago, and ruined his potatoes; and M. Frederick told me he was going to station himself in a hiding-place that Jean François knew of, and kill the animal."

"But that is so dangerous," cried Madame Bastien. "Frederick never shot at a boar in his life. If he misses, he is sure to be killed."

"I don't think you need feel any anxiety, madame. M. Frederick is an excellent shot, and – "

"Then my son is at the farmer's house now, I suppose?"

"I presume so, as he is going with the farmer this evening."

A quarter of an hour afterward the young mother, panting and breathless, – for she had run every step of the way, – knocked at the door of the farmhouse, where Jean François and his wife and children were seated around the fire.

"Jean François, take me where my son is at once," cried Madame Bastien; then she added, reproachfully, "How could you allow a youth of his age to expose himself to such danger? But come, I entreat you, come, it may not be too late to prevent this imprudence on his part."

The farmer and his wife exchanged looks of profound astonishment, then Jean François said:

"Excuse me, madame, but I've no idea what you mean."

"Didn't you complain to my son last night of a wild boar that had been ravaging your garden?"

"Oh, the boars find so many nuts in the forest this year that they are not inclined to leave it. They have done us no damage up to the present time, thank Heaven."

"But you urged my son to come and take a shot at some boar."

"No, madame, no; I never even spoke of any boar to him."

Overcome with dread and consternation, Marie stood perfectly silent and motionless for a moment. At last she murmured:

"Frederick lied to André. And those bullets – my God! – those bullets, what did he intend to do with them?"

The honest farmer, seeing Madame Bastien's intense anxiety, and thinking to reassure her at least in a measure, said to her:

"I never said anything to M. Frederick about hunting boars, but if you want to find him, I think I know where he is."

"You have seen him, then?"

"Yes, madame. Madame knows that steep hill about a mile from the Vieille Coupe road, as you go to the château through the forest?"

"Yes, yes; what of it?"

"Why, just at dusk I was coming down that hill on my way home, when I saw M. Frederick come out of the forest and cross the road on the run."

"How long ago was this?"

"At least half an hour."

"Jean François, you are a good man. I am in great trouble. Take me to the place where you saw my son, I implore you," pleaded the young mother.

"I see what the trouble is, madame, and I don't know but you have good cause to feel anxious – "

"Go on – go on."

"Well, the fact is that you're afraid that M. Frederick may be caught poaching in the Pont Brillant woods. I feel in the same way, madame, and I honestly think we have reason to be alarmed, for the young marquis is bitter against poachers, and as jealous of his game as his deceased father used to be. His guards are always on the watch, and if they find M. Frederick poaching it will go hard with him."

"Yes, yes, that is what I am afraid of," replied Madame Bastien, quickly. "You see we haven't a minute to lose. Jean François, I must get my son away at any cost."

CHAPTER XV

WHEN Marie Bastien and her guide left the farmhouse they found that the fog had lifted, and that the moon was shining brightly.

A profound silence reigned.

Jean François strode on for a moment or two in silence, then, moderating his pace, he turned and said:

"Pardon, me, madame, I am going too fast, perhaps."

"Too fast? Oh, no, my friend, you cannot go too fast. Go on, go on, I can keep up with you."

Then, after they had walked a few minutes longer in silence, Marie asked:

"When you saw my son, did he seem excited or agitated?" And as the farmer turned to reply, Madame Bastien exclaimed:

"Don't lose a minute, talk as we walk."

"I can hardly say, madame. I saw him come out of the forest, run across the road, and enter a thicket which he had probably selected as a hiding-place."

"And you think you would know this thicket?"

"Unquestionably, madame. It is only about ten rods from the sign-post on the main road to the château."

"What a distance it is, Jean François! Shall we never get there?"

"It will take a quarter of an hour longer."

"A quarter of an hour!" murmured the young mother. "Alas! so many things may happen in a quarter of an hour."

Madame Bastien and her guide hurried on, though more than once the young woman was obliged to press both hands upon her breast to still the violent throbbing of her heart.

"What time do you think it is, Jean François?" she asked a few minutes afterward.

"Judging from the moon, I think it must be about seven o'clock."

"And when we reach the edge of the forest we are near the thicket, you say?"

"Not more than a hundred yards at most, madame."

"You had better enter one side of the thicket, Jean François, and I will enter the other, and we will both call Frederick at the top of our voices. If he does not answer us," continued the young woman with an involuntary shudder, "if he does not answer us, we shall be obliged to continue our search, for we must not fail to find him."

"Certainly, madame, but if you will take my advice you will not call M. Frederick."

"But why not?"

"We might give warning to the gamekeepers who are probably on the watch, for a bright moonlight night like this seems to have been made expressly for poachers."

"You are right. But do you hear that?" she exclaimed, pausing and listening attentively. "It sounds like the ring of horse's hoofs."

"It is, madame. It may be that the head gamekeeper is making his rounds. Now we have reached the edge of the forest, madame, we will take this short cut, for it will take us straight to the guide-post, only look out for your face, for there are so many holly-bushes."

And more than once Marie's delicate hands were torn and lacerated by the sharp points of the holly-leaves, but she was not even conscious of it.

"Those bullets, why did he want those bullets?" she said to herself. "But I will not allow myself to think of it. I should die of terror, and I need all my strength."

Just then the sound of horse's hoofs, which had seemed to come from a long way off, rang out louder and louder, then ceased entirely, as if the animal had paused entirely or settled down into a walk to ascend a very steep hill.

"It was only about twenty yards from here on the top of the hill that I saw M. Frederick enter that thicket on the edge of the road," said the farmer, pointing to a large clump of young oaks. "I will go around on the other side of the thicket, you can enter it on this side, so we cannot fail to find M. Frederick if he is still there. In case I meet him before you do, I shall tell him that you want him to give up his poaching at once, sha'n't I, madame?"

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