The Hero of the People: A Historical Romance of Love, Liberty and Loyalty

“Because, then,” said Andrea, incapable of self-restraint under the sting of the serpent gnawing at her heart, “because your father is an infamous villain!”

He bounded up from the divan and stood before her.

“Do you say that of my father,” he cried, “of Dr. Gilbert, who brought me up and educated me, the only friend I ever knew? I am making a mistake – you are no mother of mine!”

She stopped him darting towards the door.

“Stay,” she said, “you cannot know, ought not understand, may not judge.”

“No; but I can feel, and I feel that I love you no more.”

She screamed with pain.

Simultaneously, a diversion was given to the emotion overwhelming her by the sound of a carriage coming up to the street doorway. Such a shudder ran over her that he thrilled in sympathy.

“Wait, and be silent,” she said so that he was subjugated.

“Who am I to announce?” she heard the old footman demand in the ante-room.

“The Count of Charny; and inquire if my lady will do me the honor to receive me?”

“Into this room, child,” said Andrea, “he must not see you – he must not know that you exist!”

She pushed the frightened youth into the adjoining apartment.

“Remain here till he shall have gone, when I will relate to – No, nothing of that can be said? I will so love you that you will not doubt that I am your own loving mother.”

His only reply was a moan.

At this moment the door opened and the servant, cap in hand, acquitted himself of the errand entrusted to him.

“Show in the Count of Charny,” she said in the firmest voice she could find.

As the old man retired, the nobleman appeared on the sill.

CHAPTER XIII

HUSBAND AND WIFE

COUNT CHARNY was clad in black, mourning for his brother slain two days before.

This mourning was not solely in his habit, but in the recesses of his heart, and his pallid cheeks attested what grief he had undergone. Never are handsome faces finer than after sorrow, and the rapid glance of his wife perceived that he had never looked more superb.

She closed her eyes an instant, slightly held back her head to draw a full breath and laid her hand on her heart which seemed about to break.

When she opened them, after a second, Charny was in the same place.

“Is the carriage to wait?” inquired the servant, urged by the footman at the door.

An unspeakable look shot from the yearning eyes of the visitor upon his wife, who was dazed into closing her own again, while she stood breathless as though she had not noticed the glance or heard the question. Both had penetrated to her heart.

Charny sought in this lovely living statue for some token to indicate what answer he should make. As her shiver might be read both ways, he said: “Bid the coachman wait.”

The door closed and perhaps for the first time since their wedding the lord and his lady were alone together.

“Pardon me,” said the count, breaking the silence, “but is my unexpected call intrusion? I have not seated myself and the carriage waits so that I can depart as I came.”

“No, my lord, quite the contrary,” quickly said Andrea. “I knew you were well and safe, but I am not the less happy to see you after recent events.”

“You have been good enough then to ask after me?”

“Of course; yesterday, and this morning, when I was answered that you were at Versailles; and this evening, when I learnt that you were in attendance on the Queen.”

Were those last words spoken simply or did they contain a reproach? Not knowing what to make of them, the count was evidently set thinking by them. But probably leaving to the outcome of the dialogue the lifting of the veil lowered on his mind for the time, he replied almost instantly:

“My lady, a pious duty retained me at Versailles yesterday and this day; one as sacred in my eyes brought me instantly on my arrival in town beside her Majesty.”

Andrea tried in her turn to discover the true intent of the words. Thinking that she ought to respond, she said:

“Yes, I know of the terrible loss which —you have experienced.” She had been on the point of saying “we,” but she dared not, and continued: “You have had the misfortune to lose your brother Valence de Charny.”

The count seemed to be waiting for the clue, for he had started on hearing the pronoun “Your.”

“Yes, my lady. As you say, a terrible loss for me, but you cannot appreciate the young man, as you little knew poor Valence, happily.”

In the last word was a mild and melancholy reproach, which his auditor comprehended, though no outward sign was manifested that she gave it heed.

“Still, one thing consoles me, if anything can console me; poor Valence died doing his duty, as probably his brother Isidore will die, and I myself.”

This deeply affected Andrea.

“Alas, my lord,” she asked, “do you believe matters so desperate that fresh sacrifices of blood are necessary to appease the wrath of heaven?”

“I believe that the hour comes when the knell of kings is to peal; that an evil genius pushes monarchy unto the abysm. In short I think, if it is to fall, it will be accompanied, and should be so, by all those who took part in its splendor.”

“True, but when comes that day, believe that it will find me ready like yourself for the utmost devotion,” said Andrea.

“Your ladyship has given too many proofs of that devotion in the past, for any one to doubt it for the future – I least of all – the less as I have for the first time flinched about an order from the Queen. On arriving from Versailles, I found the order to present myself to her Majesty instantly.”

“Oh,” said Andrea, sadly smiling; “it is plain,” she added, after a pause, “like you, the Queen sees the future is sombre and mysterious and wishes to gather round her all those she can depend on.”

“You are wrong, my lady,” returned Charny, “for the Queen summoned me, not to bid me stand by her, but to send me afar.”

“Send you away?” quickly exclaimed the countess, taking a step towards the speaker. “But I am keeping you standing,” she said, pointing to a chair.

So saying, she herself sank, as though unable to remain on foot any longer, on the sofa where she had been sitting with Sebastian shortly before.

“Send you away? in what end?” she said with emotion not devoid of joy at the thought that the suspected lovers were parting.