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      CHAPTER XVIII

      IN WHICH THERE IS A GLIMMER OF HOPE

      THE following morning, Marius, urged on by necessity, decided on calling on M. de Girousse.

      He had been thinking of applying to the old Count ever since he had been in search of money, but had always refrained from doing so on account of the nobleman’s original bluntness. He felt ashamed to own his poverty and blushed at the thought of having to confess to what use he proposed putting the amount he was asking for. Nothing seemed more painful to him than to be compelled to take any third party into his confidence in regard to his brother’s escape, and M. de Girousse frightened him more than anyone else.

      When the young man called, the mansion was closed, the Count having just left for Lambesc. His errand was so disagreeable to him that he was almost glad at finding no one at home. He remained on the Cours irresolute, not daring to go to Lambesc and in despair at being reduced to inaction.

      As he advanced along one of the paths quite upset and with his eyes wandering vaguely about him, he met Fine. It was seven o’clock in the morning. The flower-girl with her best clothes on, had a small travelling bag in her hand and appeared all smiles and determination.

      “Where are you off to?” he inquired, with surprise.

      “I am going to Marseille,” she answered.

      He looked at her curiously, asking for an explanation with his eyes.

      “I can tell you nothing,” she continued. “I have a plan, but am afraid of failure. I shall return tonight. Come, never despair!”

      Marius accompanied Fine to the diligence. When the heavy vehicle set out, he followed it for a long time with his eyes; this carriage bore away his last hope and would bring him back joy or anguish. Up to the evening he watched all the diligences coming in, until at length there remained only one to arrive, and Fine had not yet returned.

      The young man, devoured by impatience, walked nervously backward and forward, trembling lest the flower-girl should not return until the following day. In his trouble as to what this last attempt might be, he felt he had not the courage to pass another whole night of uncertainty and anxiety. He walked about the Cours shivering, and a prey to a sort of nightmare.

      At last, he perceived the diligence in the distance in the centre of the Rotunda Square. When he heard the wheels rumbling on the stones his heart beat violently. He set his back against a tree and watched the travellers stepping out one by one.

      All at once he felt as if rooted to the spot. He had seen the tall form and sad, pale face of Abbé Chastanier appear at one of the open doors of the vehicle, almost opposite to him. When the abbé was on the pavement he extended his hand and helped out a young lady who was none other than Mademoiselle Blanche de Cazalis.

      Fine lightly sprang to the ground behind her, without making use of the step. She was beaming with smiles.

      The two travellers, guided by Fine, went off in the direction of the Hôtel des Princes. Marius, who had remained in the shades of early evening, followed them in a mechanical manner, at a loss to understand, as if stultified.

      Fine remained ten minutes in the hotel at most. As she left she caught sight of the young man, and ran towards him in a fit of delight.

      “I succeeded in bringing them here,” she exclaimed clapping her hands; and now I trust they will obtain what I want. Tomorrow we shall be fixed.”

      Then she took Marius’ arm and gave him an account of her journey.

      The previous evening she had been struck by something the young man had said about regretting he had not the time before him to earn the amount he required by work. On the other hand the anecdotes her uncle had related, had shown her that it would be impossible to find a money-lender or usurer disposed to be reasonable. The matter was therefore reduced to one of gaining time, of delaying as long as possible the moment when Philippe would be attached to the pillory. What terrified them was this public exhibition, and the infamy it carried with it, by handing over the condemned to the sneers and insults of the mob.

      From that moment the young girl’s plan was formed; it was a bold plan which would perhaps succeed by reason of its audacity. Her intention had been to go straight to M. Cazalis’ to penetrate as far as his niece and describe the picture of the public exhibition of Philippe, pointing out how insulting such a sight would be for her. She would persuade her to lend assistance and both would go and implore the deputy to intercede. If M. de Cazalis would not consent to ask for pardon he would perhaps try to obtain a postponement.

      Fine, however, did not reason out her plans. It seemed to her impossible that Blanche’s uncle could resist her tears. She had faith in her devotedness.

      The poor child was dreaming with her eyes wide open in hoping that M. de Cazalis would relent at the last moment. This proud and obstinate man had meant to cover Philippe with infamy, and he would have allowed no obstacle to be placed in the way of his vengeance. Had she found herself in his path she would have been crushed, she would have expended her brightest smiles and most touching tears in pure loss.

      Fortunately for her she was assisted by circumstances. When she called at the deputy’s mansion on the Cours Bonaparte, she was informed that M. de Cazalis had just left for Paris on business connected with his political position. She then asked to see Mademoiselle Blanche and was told, in a sort of vague manner, that the young lady was absent, that she was travelling.

      The flower-girl felt very much embarrassed, but she was obliged to withdraw and to go and think matters over in the street. All her plans were upset, this absence of the uncle and niece deprived her of the support on which she had relied, and she had not a single friend to whom she could appeal. She was determined, however, that she would not lose her last hope and return to Aix as sick at heart as on the previous evening, after having made a useless journey.

      All at once she thought of Abbé Chastanier. Marius had often spoken to her of the old priest. She knew how good and devoted he was. Perhaps he might be able to give her some valuable information.

      She found him at the house of his sister, the old invalided workwoman, and unbosoming herself to him, explained in a few words the reason of her journey to Marseille. The priest listened to her with lively concern.

      “It is heaven that has sent you here,” he answered. “I think, under circumstances such as these, that I may violate the secret that has been entrusted to me. Mademoiselle Blanche is not travelling. Her uncle, wishing to hide her condition and being unable to take her to Paris, has rented a cottage for her in the village of Saint Henri. She is living there with a companion. M. de Cazalis, who has received me back into his good graces and begged me to visit her frequently, has given me considerable power СКАЧАТЬ