"We shall go over that more at our leisure, my dear Raoul. The details of the matter would now lead us too far away. Only be certain that you can not have a more pernicious family among your va.s.sals than this identical Lebrenn family. We shall talk over the matter later. Suffice it now to say that they are the sort of people that must be suppressed.

I may be able to render you some a.s.sistance in that direction; but I consider that the most urgent thing just now is to place your sister where it would be absolutely impossible for her to pursue the course of her eccentricities and follies."

"Oh! Abbot, do you not know there is an obstacle, a serious one in the way?"

"I know full well that your projects of a double marriage compel you to humor the brainless creature--but, one thing or the other: Bertha is either willing, or she is not willing, to lead the plan to a successful issue. Now, then, it is my opinion that she is not willing. Her determination is made."

"You are in error, Abbot," said the Count of Plouernel. "Bertha does not object to the marriage."

"But she demands time--to reflect! Not so, my dear Raoul? Well, then, all her delays have but one object in view: Bertha seeks to gain time in order to deliver herself without restraint to her follies, perhaps to--it is this that, above all, frightens me for the honor of your house--the bare thought frightens and terrifies me--"

"What is the cause of your fear? Come, explain yourself!"

"My dear Raoul, our poor Abbot thinks Bertha is in love."

"Good G.o.d!" broke in the Count, stupefied. "Do you think so, madam?

Bertha in love! Impossible!"

"Everything leads to the belief that her love is an unworthy love, since Bertha surrounds it with profound mystery," the Abbot proceeded to explain. "Neither the Marchioness, nor yourself, nor I--I admit it--have until now been able to suspect, or even remotely guess who the object can be of this evidently monstrous pa.s.sion. That such a pa.s.sion does exist I make no doubt. All signs point in that direction."

"Thinking the matter over, and recalling certain circ.u.mstances that now rise vividly to my mind, I share the Abbot's opinion," added the Marchioness. "Bertha must have availed herself of the freedom that we allowed her to abandon herself to some disgraceful choice. One of these days she will flee with her lover, and the honor of our house will be tarnished forever! A scandal, dishonor, shame to our family!"

"The devil take it!" cried the Count of Plouernel. "If my sister should ever carry her disregard of all duty to the point of refusing a marriage that secures such great advantages to me, I swear to G.o.d! if the cause of her refusal be some disgraceful love, I shall immediately go and throw myself at the feet of the King, and request him to have the wretch locked up in the Prison of the Repentant Women where she will be treated with the utmost rigor."

"Mademoiselle Plouernel consigned to the Prison of the Repentant Women!

Oh, my dear boy, you can not mean that!" said Abbot Boujaron with devout unction. "No; no; that is out of the question! But what is sensible and proper is that your sister take the veil, and that the share of the inheritance due her according to the custom of Brittany, be a.s.signed to the community that may receive the great sinner, to aid it in exercising its charitable works. Besides, believe me, my dear boy," added the Abbot, smiling, "it is not necessary that our sinner be confined in the Prison of the Repentant Women in order to be treated with the uttermost rigor, and be severely chastised in the flesh and in her pride--for the salvation of her soul."

The Count of Plouernel lent but an inattentive ear to the prelate's words, and resumed in a towering rage:

"My sister in love with some vulgar fellow! My marriage, upon which I raised so many hopes, thwarted by the ill-will of the wretched creature! Malediction! Let her tremble before my anger!"

"My dear boy," said the Abbot to the exasperated Count, "there is a way of putting an end to these perplexities. Demand to-day, instantly, from Bertha a categoric answer--yes, or no--on her marriage with the Marquis."

"Zounds! Abbot--I know beforehand she will say neither yes nor no."

"That may be. But after you shall have urged her a last time, entreated, implored her in the name of your most cherished interests to decide this very day, would not her persistence in further delays prove to you that she is determined not to marry the Marquis, and that it is certain she is sacrificing him to some unworthy love?"

"In that event--malediction! a curse upon her! A dungeon cell will overcome her resistance."

"My dear boy, we must not curse anybody," remarked the Abbot piously; "but it is necessary that, without flinching, you perform the duties that devolve upon you, the head of your ill.u.s.trious house. It is urgent that to-morrow, yes, not later than to-morrow, you prevent your sister by prompt and rigorous measures from dishonoring your name and herself.

You have plenty of cells and dungeons."

"I swear to G.o.d!" cried the Count of Plouernel, "if Bertha refuses to decide to accept the marriage--I shall be pitiless. Yes, and to-morrow we shall take the steps that may be necessary to safeguard our honor."

The Count was interrupted in the flow of his threats by the entrance of a lackey who said to Madam Tremblay:

"Monsieur the Marquis of Chateauvieux has presented himself at the door, and requests to be admitted before madam. May I introduce him, madam?"

"Beg Monsieur the Marquis to enter," answered the Marchioness of Tremblay. "The dear colonel! How happy we are that he comes to pay us a visit!"

And immediately after the lackey withdrew she added hurriedly:

"Raoul, not a word to the Marquis about what we have been saying, before we have heard from Bertha."

As the Marchioness addressed these words to the Count of Plouernel, who answered her with an affirmative nod, the Marquis of Chateauvieux appeared at the door of the salon, and saluted the company with the graceful ease of a courtier. Nevertheless, the colonel seemed troubled in mind; he held a letter in his hand.

"Madam," he said, addressing the Marchioness, "I have news for you that grieves me doubly."

"What about, my dear Marquis?"

"This despatch that I have just received by a courier from Monsieur the Duke of Chaulnes, Governor of Brittany, orders me to join him immediately with the two battalions of my regiment which I am to collect on the way thither. A sedition, believed to have been fomented by the parliament, has broken out in Rennes. The King's authority is a.s.sailed; the citizens are up in arms; the whole populace is in rebellion. The Duke of Chaulnes does not feel safe."

"Great G.o.d!" cried Madam Tremblay, no less alarmed than the Abbot.

"What you are telling us, Marquis, is a most grave event."

"All the graver," interjected the Count of Plouernel thoughtfully, "seeing this sedition seems to coincide with the recent rebellion of my own va.s.sals of Mezlean. Would you believe it, Marquis, that canaille had the audacity of resisting your soldiers; the woolen caps tried to disarm your men!"

"I have been informed of that occurrence by a letter from one of my subaltern officers, who was compelled on that occasion to release his prisoners upon orders from Mademoiselle Plouernel. As a consequence, I have had to recall that detachment, it being impolitic to leave my soldiers in a region where they had to submit to an outrage left unpunished. They will arrive here this evening. The honor of the regiment is compromised until the guilty parties are punished."

"Believe me, my dear Marquis, I feel grieved at my sister's rash interference on the occasion."

"Without stopping to consider the consequences of her act, Mademoiselle Plouernel yielded to a generous impulse for which I would not dare to blame her. But since I did myself the honor of p.r.o.nouncing her name,"

added the Marquis of Chateauvieux, "allow me, my dear Count, and you Madam the Marchioness, to address a request to you. I must leave the Castle of Plouernel within two hours; however insignificant may be the revolt of the ill-intentioned people of Rennes, whom I expect to chastise severely, civil war has its risks. The bullet from an old musket fired by a bourgeois not infrequently hits its mark as unerringly as that of our own soldiers. I do not know what fate awaits me in the conflict that is about to take place. Before taking leave of you, my dear Count, I entertain the liveliest desire not to be left in doubt concerning the favorable or unfavorable success of a double marriage that is the highest aspiration of myself and my father."

"Dear Marquis," answered the Count of Plouernel with emphasis, "my aunt, the Abbot and myself were just considering the urgency of obtaining this very day a final answer from my sister, which I doubt not will be in accord with the desires of our two families. The untoward events that hasten your departure render the necessity for her answer all the more urgent. If she is what she should be, and what I doubt not she is, our chaplain will betroth you to-day to my sister in the chapel of the castle. It will be your induction into the family. I had so decided."

"And after you shall have chastised the insolent bourgeois of Rennes, a thing that will be easy to do and will be done promptly, thanks to you and your soldiers, my dear Marquis," put in Madam Tremblay, feeling more at ease, "you will return to us. Monsieur the Duke your father and Mademoiselle Chateauvieux as agreed before our departure from Versailles, will come to Plouernel, where the festivities of the double marriage will be held with so much splendor and magnificence that they will be the admiration of all Brittany."

"Above all, Monsieur the Marquis, induce the Duke of Chaulnes to hang high and dry as many bourgeois as he can," added Abbot Boujaron, who seemed less sure than the Marchioness of the speedy quelling of the sedition. "The minds of the scamps must be struck with terror. The repression must be merciless."

"The customary severity of the Duke of Chaulnes should be an ample guarantee to you, Monsieur Abbot, that he will not flinch before the populace," was the Marquis of Chateauvieux's answer. "He will be inexorable."

And, proceeding to address the Marchioness and the Count:

"I can not express to you how touched I feel at your words! I can now hope for the best--unless the health of Mademoiselle Plouernel should prevent our betrothal. She has not left her room for two days, a circ.u.mstance that has desolated me; it prevented me from presenting to her my homage upon her return from Mezlean. I hope you can give me a favorable report of her health."

"Rea.s.sure yourself, my dear Marquis; my niece's indisposition was caused only by the fatigue of the journey. It will in no wise prevent her from proceeding to the chapel to solemnize her betrothal, if, as I do not doubt, any more than my nephew, she consents to hasten the conclusion of the marriage. I shall immediately visit Bertha. I shall tell her that her brother and myself wish to converse with her; and I doubt not, dear Marquis, that the issue will fully meet your wishes and ours."

Saying this the Marchioness of Tremblay proceeded immediately to Bertha's apartment. Mademoiselle Plouernel occupied the chamber that her mother formerly inhabited, contiguous to the library of the castle. As the Marchioness crossed this vast room she met Dame Marion, Bertha's nurse, who was devotedly attached to her. Madam Tremblay ordered her to notify her mistress that she wished to speak to her shortly.

"She is probably still in bed," added the Marchioness. "She must rise without delay and dress herself to receive her brother, myself and Monsieur the Abbot. We have to speak to her upon matters of the highest importance."

"Oh! Mademoiselle has risen and dressed herself more than two hours ago, madam."

"That being the case, go and request Monsieur the Count and Monsieur the Abbot to come and join me in my niece's chamber."

"Madam the Marchioness will not find mademoiselle in her chamber."

"Where is she?"