It seemed like sacrilege to say more; but as his uncle waited, he added hastily--"She is sad, and I can make her happy. But I cannot live without her--voila! Now will you help me?"

"It does not occur to you, then, that you are astonishingly presumptuous?"

"No."

"Diable, my Angelot! It would occur to my cousins De Sainfoy!"

"We are not so poor. As to family, we have not a t.i.tle, it is true, but we are their cousins--and look at my mother's descent! They can show nothing like it. And then see what they owe to my father. Without him, what would have become of Lancilly? They can make imperialist marriages for their two other daughters. You must help me, dear little uncle!"

"Do you suppose they would listen to me, an old Chouan? Where are your wits, my poor boy? All flown in pursuit of Mademoiselle Helene!"

"Not they, no; they are too stupid to appreciate you. But speak to my father and mother for me. They love and honour you; they will listen.

Tell them all for me; ask them to arrange it all. I will do anything they wish, live anywhere. Only let them give me Helene."

Monsieur Joseph whistled, and took another large pinch of snuff. It was almost too dark now to see each other's face, and the heavy clouds, with a distant rolling of thunder, hung low over Les Chouettes.

Suddenly a child's voice from a window above broke the silence.

"Ah, forgive me, papa and Angelot, but I have heard all, every word you have been saying. It was so interesting, I could not shut the window and go to sleep. Well, little papa, what do you say to Angelot? Tell him you will help him, we will both help him, to the last drop of our blood."

Angelot sprang from his seat with an exclamation, to look up at the window. A small, white-clad figure stood there, a round dark head against the dim light of the room. The voice had something pathetic as well as comical.

"Mille tonnerres!" shouted Monsieur Joseph, very angry. "Go to bed this instant, little imp, or I shall come upstairs with a birch rod. You will gain nothing by your dishonourable listening. I shall send you to Mademoiselle Moineau to-morrow, to learn lessons all day long."

"Ah, papa, if you do, I can talk to Helene about Angelot," said Henriette, and she hastily shut the window.

The two men looked at each other and laughed.

"Good night, dear uncle," said Angelot, gently. "I leave my cause in your hands--and Riette's!"

"You are mad--we are all mad together. Go home and expect nothing," said Monsieur Joseph.

CHAPTER IX

HOW COMMON SENSE FOUGHT AND TRIUMPHED

General Ratoneau found himself a hero at Madame de Sainfoy's dinner party, and was gratified. A new-comer, he had hardly yet made his way into provincial society, except by favour of the Prefect. Even the old families who regarded the Prefect as partly one of themselves, and for his birth and manners forgave his opinions, found a difficulty in swallowing the General. The idea that he was unwelcome, when it penetrated Ratoneau's brain, added to the insolence of his bearing. To teach these ignorant provincial n.o.bles a lesson, to show these poor and proud people, returned from emigration, that they need not imagine the France of 1811 to be the same country as the France of 1788, to make them feel that they were subjects of the Emperor Napoleon and inferior to his officers--all this seemed to General Ratoneau part of his mission in Anjou. And at the same time it was the wish of his heart to be received as a friend and an equal by the very people he pretended to despise.

Lancilly enchanted him. Though the stately halls and staircases were bare, the great rooms half-furnished and dark--for Madame de Sainfoy had not yet carried out her plans of decoration--though there were few servants, no great display of splendid plate, no extravagance in the dinner itself, no magnificence in the ladies' dresses, for at this time simplicity was the fashion--yet everything pleased him, because of the perfections of his hostess. Madame de Sainfoy laid herself out to flatter him, to put him in a good humour with himself. Rather to the disgust of various old neighbours who had not dined at Lancilly for more than twenty years, she placed the Prefect and the General on her right and left at dinner, and while the Prefect made himself agreeable to an old lady on his right, whose satin gown was faded and her ancient lace in rags, she devoted all her powers of talk to the General.

In a way she admired the man. His extraordinary likeness to his master attracted her, for she was a hearty worshipper of Napoleon. She talked of Paris, the Empress, the Court; she talked of her son and his campaigns, asking the General's opinion and advice, but cleverly leading him off when he began to brag of his own doings; so cleverly that he had no idea of her tactics. He was a little dazzled. She was a very handsome woman; her commanding fairness, her wonderful smile, the movements of her lovely hands and arms, the almost confidential charm of her manner; she was worthy to be an Empress herself, Ratoneau thought, and his admiration went on growing. He began to talk to her of his most private affairs and wishes, and she listened more and more graciously.

It was a large party; many of the old provincial families were represented there. All the company talked and laughed in the gayest manner, though now and then eyes would light on the hostess' left-hand neighbour with a kind of disgusted fascination, and somebody would be silent for a minute or two, or murmur a private remark in a neighbour's ear. One lady, an old friend and plain of speech, turned thus to Urbain de la Mariniere:--

"Why does Adelade exert herself to entertain that creature?"

"Because, madame," he answered, smiling, "Adelade is the most sensible and practical woman of our acquaintance."

"Mon Dieu! But what does she expect to get by it?"

He shrugged his shoulders.

Angelot, the youngest man present, had been allowed to take his cousin Helene in to dinner. Two minutes of happiness; for the arrangement of the table separated them by its whole length. But it had been enough to bring a smile and a tinge of lovely colour to Helene's face, and to give her the rare feeling that happiness, after all, was a possibility. Then she found herself next to a person who, after Angelot, seemed to her the most delightful she had ever met; who asked her friendly questions, told her stories, watched her, in the intervals of his talk with others, with eyes full of admiration and a deep amus.e.m.e.nt which she did not understand, but which set her heart beating oddly and pleasantly, as she asked herself if Angelot could possibly have said anything to this dear uncle of his.

Poor Angelot! he looked unhappy enough, there in the distance, sitting in most unusual sulks and silence.

There was an opportunity for a word, as he led her back from the dining-room, through the smaller salon, into the large lighted room where all the guests had preceded them.

"I don't wonder that you love your uncle," she said to him.

"I don't love him, when I see him talking to you. I am too jealous."

"How absurd!"

"Besides, I am angry with him. He has not done something that I asked him. Delay is dangerous, and I live in terror."

"What?" she asked, turning a little white.

"If you would give me the Empire, I could not tell you now."

They were in the salon. He put his heels together and bowed; she swept him a curtsey.

"Help me to hand the coffee," she said under her breath.

So it came to pa.s.s, when the coffee-table was brought in, that they walked up together to the new sofa, polished mahogany and yellow satin, finished with winged Sphinxes in gilded bronze, where Madame de Sainfoy and General Ratoneau were sitting side by side.

The Prefect, of course, had brought his hostess back from the dining-room and had stood talking to her for a few minutes afterwards.

But the General, having deposited his lady, came clanking up almost immediately to rejoin Madame de Sainfoy.

"Allow me, my dear Prefect," he said. "I have not finished an interesting talk with Madame la Comtesse."

Monsieur de Mauves looked at him, then glanced at her with a questioning smile.

"Yes, it is true. We had just touched on a subject of the very deepest interest," she said.

Her look, her smile, seemed to glide over the Prefect's tall figure and pleasant face, as if he was merely a not disagreeable obstacle, to rest thoughtfully, with satisfaction, on Ratoneau in his gorgeous uniform.

"Listen! I will confide in you, and then you will understand," said the General, seizing the Prefect's arm. "I am going to consult Madame la Comtesse on the subject of a marriage."

He showed his teeth in a broad smile, staring into the Prefect's face, which did not change in its expression of easy good-humour.

"Whose marriage, may I ask? Your own?"

"You have said it, monsieur. My own. Could I do better?"