Instead of which I feel like a thief.Fancy her getting so fond of a PLACE as all this."Presently it occurred to him that the shortness of the notice might have much to do with her distress."These notaries," said he to himself, "understand nothing save law: women have piles of baggage, and can't strike tents directly the order comes, as we can.Perhaps if I were to give them twenty-four days instead of hours?--hum!"With this the commandant fell into a brown study.Now each of us has his attitude of brown study.One runs about the room like hyena in his den; another stands stately with folded arms (this one seldom thinks to the purpose); another sits cross-legged, brows lowered:
another must put his head into his hand, and so keep it up to thinking mark: another must twiddle a bit of string, or a key; grant him this, he can hatch an epic.This commandant must draw himself up very straight, and walk six paces and back very slowly, till the problem was solved: I suspect he had done a good bit of sentinel work in his time.
Now whilst he was guarding the old oak-tree, for all the world as if it had been the gate of the Tuileries or the barracks, Josephine de Beaurepaire came suddenly out from the house and crossed the Pleasaunce: her hair was in disorder, her manner wild: she passed swiftly into the park.
Raynal recognized her as one of the family; and after a moment's reflection followed her into the park with the good-natured intention of offering her a month to clear out instead of a day.
But it was not so easy to catch her: she flew.He had to take his scabbard in his left hand and fairly run after her.Before he could catch her, she entered the little chapel.He came up and had his foot on the very step to go in, when he was arrested by that he heard within.
Josephine had thrown herself on her knees and was praying aloud:
praying to the Virgin with sighs and sobs and all her soul:
wrestling so in prayer with a dead saint as by a strange perversity men cannot or will not wrestle with Him, who alone can hear a million prayers at once from a million different places,--can realize and be touched with a sense of all man's infirmities in a way no single saint with his partial experience of them can realize and be touched by them; who unasked suspended the laws of nature that had taken a stranger's only son, and she a widow; and wept at another great human sorrow, while the eyes of all the great saints that stood around it and Him were dry.
Well, the soldier stood, his right foot on the step and his sword in his left hand, transfixed: listening gravely to the agony of prayer the innocent young creature poured forth within:--"O Madonna! hear me: it is for my mother's life.She will die--she will die.You know she cannot live if she is taken away from her house and from this holy place where she prays to you this many years.O Queen of Heaven! put out your hand to us unfortunates!
Virgin, hear a virgin: mother, listen to a child who prays for her mother's life! The doctor says she will not live away from here.
She is too old to wander over the world.Let them drive us forth:
we are young, but not her, mother, oh, not her! Forgive the cruel men that do this thing!--they are like those who crucified your Son--they know not what they are doing.But you, Queen of Heaven, you know all; and, sweet mother, if you have kind sentiments towards me, poor Josephine, ah! show them now: for you know that it was I who insulted that wicked notary, and it is out of hatred to me he has sold our beloved house to a hard stranger.Look down on me, a child who loves her mother, yet will destroy her unless you pity me and help me.Oh! what shall I say?--what shall I do? mercy! mercy! for my poor mother, for me!"Here her utterance was broken by sobs.
The soldier withdrew his foot quietly.Her words had knocked against his very breast-bone.He marched slowly to and fro before the chapel, upright as a dart, and stiff as a ramrod, and actually pale: for even our nerves have their habits; a woman's passionate grief shook him as a cannon fired over his head could not.
Josephine little thought who was her sentinel.She came to the door at last, and there he was marching backwards and forwards, upright and stiff.She gave a faint scream and drew back with a shudder at the sight of their persecutor.She even felt faintish at him, as women will in such cases.
Not being very quick at interpreting emotion, Raynal noticed her alarm, but not her repugnance; he saluted her with military precision by touching his cap as only a soldier can, and said rather gently for him, "A word with you, mademoiselle."She replied only by trembling.
"Don't be frightened," said Raynal, in a tone not very reassuring.
"I propose an armistice."
"I am at your disposal, sir," said Josephine, now assuming a calmness that was belied by the long swell of her heaving bosom.
"Of course you look on me as an enemy."
"How can I do otherwise, sir? yet perhaps I ought not.You did not know us.You just wanted an estate, I suppose--and--oh!""Well, don't cry; and let us come to the point, since I am a man of few words.""If you please, sir.My mother may miss me.""Well, I was in position on your flank when the notary delivered his fire.And I saw the old woman's distress.""Ah, sir!"
"When you came flying out I followed to say a good word to you.Icould not catch you.I listened while you prayed to the Virgin.
That was not a soldier-like trick, you will say.I confess it.""It matters little, sir, and you heard nothing I blush for.""No! by St.Denis; quite the contrary.Well, to the point.Young lady, you love your mother.""What has she on earth now but her children's love?""Now look here, young lady, I had a mother; I loved her in my humdrum way very dearly.She promised me faithfully not to die till I should be a colonel; and she went and died before I was a commandant, even; just before, too.""Then I pity you," murmured Josephine; and her soft purple eye began to dwell on him with less repugnance.
