CHAPTER CLXIII.

LAURA AND ROSALIE.

Yes--it was a great triumph for Laura Mortimer,--a triumph all the

greater, inasmuch as she knew that the agitation and rage of her

husband could not speedily pass away; and that, when his friends had

leisure to observe his emotions and seek an explanation, he would not

dare to afford them any!

[Illustration]

She had, moreover, made statements to the young Castelcicalan which

he would doubtless repeat to Charles Hatfield, whom they were well

calculated to mystify relative to her future proceedings; for the

reader scarcely requires to be told that she had not the slightest

intention to repair to Vienna nor to visit Italy.

In every respect she had ample reason to be well satisfied with the

results of the scheme she had devised in the morning and so effectually

carried out in the afternoon,--a scheme so wild and having so many

thousand chances against its success, that none save the intrepid,

resolute, far-seeing Laura could have possibly hoped to conduct it to a

triumphant issue.

Having proceeded to the end of the avenue, she ordered the coachman to

retrace his way and return home;--but she was not destined to reach the

Rue Monthabor without experiencing another adventure, which may for the

moment seem trivial, but which was nevertheless destined to exercise no

mean amount of influence upon her future career.

As the carriage was emerging from the Champs Elysées, two gentlemen on

horseback, just entering the fashionable lounge, were about to pass

by, when one of them, recognising Laura, suddenly pulled up and made

her a low bow. She immediately ordered the carriage to stop; for it

was her courteous and obliging friend the professor of music, who had

thus saluted her--and she was anxious to express to him the delight she

had experienced from a perusal of the translations he had sent to her

the preceding evening. After the exchange of the usual complimentary

remarks, the professor, turning towards his companion, said, “My lord,

permit me to introduce you to one of my fair pupils--my fairest pupil,

I should rather observe,” he added, in a good-tempered manner: “Miss

Laura Mortimer--the Marquis of Delmour.”

Laura was startled for an instant at finding her music-master in such

aristocratic society; and as she inclined gracefully in acknowledgment

of the nobleman’s courteous salutation, she observed that his lordship

was an elderly, if not actually an old man, but that his countenance

was far from disagreeable.

A brief conversation ensued; and although the marquis had no

opportunity of speaking more than a dozen words, and even those on

common topic Laura nevertheless saw enough of him to be convinced that

his manners were of polished elegance, and that his disposition was

frank and unassuming.

It was not therefore without emotions of secret pleasure that she heard

herself thus addressed by the professor of music:--

“Miss Mortimer, his lordship, and myself, are old acquaintances, and he

permits me to call him my friend. His lordship will honour my humble

abode with his presence, to-morrow, evening: there will be a musical

soirée of the same unpretending kind as that which you yourself graced

with your company the evening before last. My wife will doubtless send

you the formal card; but may I in a less ceremonial fashion, solicit

you to favour us with your presence?”

Laura signified the pleasure she should experience in accepting the

invitation; and all the time she was listening to the professor and

replying to him, she had the agreeable consciousness that the marquis

was gazing upon her with an admiration which he could not repress. She

however affected not to be in the slightest degree aware that she was

undergoing such an impassioned survey; and when she turned towards his

lordship to make the parting bow, it was with the formal reserve and

yet graceful dignity of a lady to whom a stranger has only just been

introduced.

The carriage rolled on in one direction--the horsemen pursued their way

in another;--and while the Marquis of Delmour was putting innumerable

questions to his friend relative to the houri whom they had thus met,

Laura was on her side resolving that Rosalie should without delay

institute all possible inquiries respecting the position, fortune, and

character of that nobleman.

We should here remind the reader that the professor of music was a man

eminent in his special sphere, of high respectability, and great moral

worth; and, moreover, he was a native of a country where talent is

prized and looked up to, instead of being merely tolerated and looked

down upon. It is not, therefore, extraordinary if we find him moving in

the best society, and having his entertainments attended by the _elite_

of the residents or visitors in the gay city of Paris.

On her return home to her splendid apartments in the Rue Monthabor,

Laura was immediately waited upon by her lady’s-maid; and while the

mistress was changing her attire in preparation for dinner, the

dependant explained the means by which she had induced Charles Hatfield

and the two Italian officers in the suite of the Grand Duke to repair

to the Champs Elysées in company, and at the hour specified by Laura.

“When you first mentioned your desire to me this morning,

_mademoiselle_,” began Rosalie, “I must confess that I was somewhat

embarrassed how to accomplish the scheme; although I did not despair.

But when I saw the paragraph in the paper, and ascertained the hotel

at which the Grand Duke and his suite had taken up their temporary

abode, I suddenly remembered that a day or two ago I met a young woman

who had formerly been my fellow-servant, and that she was now filling

a situation in that very hotel. This circumstance inspired me with a

hope of success; and we Frenchwomen look upon an intrigue as being as

good as carried successfully out, when it affords a hope to encourage

us. Therefore did I promise you so confidently; and I lost no time in

proceeding to the hotel. I soon found my friend, who is a chamber-maid

there; and I told her just sufficient--without, however, mentioning

your name or even alluding to you, _mademoiselle_--to induce her to

afford me her assistance. Some of the officers of the Grand Duke’s

suite were lounging in the court-yard of the hotel at the time; and my

friend pointed them out to me one by one, naming each as she proceeded.

I resolved to choose the two youngest and handsomest to be Mr. Charles

Hatfield’s companions, _mademoiselle_; because,” continued Rosalie,

with an arch smile, “I tolerably well understood the entire nature of

the project which you had in contemplation.”

“You are marvellously sharp-witted and keen-sighted, Rosalie,” said

Laura, laughing good-humouredly. “But pray proceed. What step did you

adopt next, after having thus passed the Grand Duke’s suite in a review

of which they were however unconscious?”

“I must confess, _mademoiselle_,” resumed Rosalie, “that I was somewhat

puzzled how to act. But suddenly an idea struck me; and, however

ridiculous the plan may now appear to you, your own lips can proclaim

whether it succeeded or not. In fact, I calculated upon the romantic

disposition which the Italians are known to possess; and I also

reflected that as Mr. Charles Hatfield, whom I likewise saw at the

hotel (though he saw not me) appeared pensive and thoughtful, he would

embark in any adventure that promised to wean his thoughts from their

melancholy mood, and that offered some excitement of a novel character.

I accordingly penned a note, addressed to Mr. Charles Hatfield, Captain

Barthelma, and Lieutenant Di Ponta----”

“What is the name of the taller and handsomer of the two officers who

accompanied Charles?” asked Laura, with a slight kindling of sensual

feeling as she recalled to mind the pleasing features of the Italian

who had picked up her parasol, and with whom she had exchanged the few

complimentary observations already recorded.

“That one is Captain Barthelma,” answered Rosalie.

“Proceed,” said Laura. “You were telling me that you penned a note----”

“To the three gentlemen collectively,” added the lady’s-maid;--“and,

as nearly as I can remember, the contents ran thus:--‘To Mr. Charles

Hatfield, Captain Barthelma, and Lieutenant Di Ponta, an unhappy

Spanish refugee ventures to address himself, having certain excellent

reasons for being well aware that they will not refuse to listen to

his sad tale, and interest themselves in his behalf. But as he is

an object of suspicion to the French government, he dares not make

his appearance at the hotel where a prince, who is known to be the

redresser of wrongs, has taken up his abode. He will therefore walk

this afternoon, from four to five, on the right hand of the central

avenue of the Champs Elysées; and if the three gentlemen to whom he now

addresses his humble but earnest application, will be at the place and

time appointed, the unhappy writer of this petition will make himself

known to them--will explain his business frankly--and will indicate the

means by which he can be restored to wealth and happiness. Those means

consist in one word which it will be for His Sovereign Highness the

Grand Duke to speak, and which can only be spoken at the instigation

of the three gentlemen to whom this letter is addressed.’”

“Upon my word, I give you credit for your stratagem!” exclaimed Laura,

laughing heartily. “I have no doubt that Charles sees through it _now_:

but he will not dare to give any explanations to his friends,” she

added, in a musing tone. “They will imagine that they have been duped

by some humorous person--and he will affect to fall into the same way

of thinking.”

“Or else the two Italian gentlemen will suppose that the poor refugee

was prevented, by some misadventure, from keeping the appointment,”

observed Rosalie, now giving way to her mirth to such a degree that the

tears came into her eyes.

“Well--make an end of your story,” said Laura, who had nearly completed

her toilette; for, although she expected no one that evening, she

nevertheless made it a rule to dress herself with the utmost care in

case of a visit on the part of any of those persons whose acquaintance

she had recently formed.

“I have little more to tell you, _mademoiselle_, responded Rosalie.

“My friend, the chambermaid, left the note, which was duly sealed and

properly addressed to the three gentlemen, upon the table of Captain

Barthelma’s private apartment; and soon afterwards that officer

went to his room. I waited at the hotel in the hope of ascertaining

the effect that the _billet_ would produce; and in a short time the

captain returned in haste to his companions, who were still lounging

in the court-yard--some of them giving directions to their grooms,

and others smoking cigars. From the window of my friend’s chamber, I

beheld Captain Barthelma draw Mr. Charles Hatfield and Lieutenant Di

Ponta aside, and show them the letter. They evidently perused it with

great attention; and I felt assured by their manner that they treated

the affair seriously. I now requested my friend to hurry down stairs,

and traverse the yard as if in pursuance of her avocations--but to

pass as near the little group as possible, and endeavour to catch any

remarks that they might be exchanging at the moment. This she did; and

she heard quite enough to convince her that the appointment would be

kept. I then retraced my way homeward, and was happy in being able to

give you the assurance, _mademoiselle_, that your wishes would be fully

gratified so far as the result depended upon me.”

“You are a good girl, Rosalie,” said Laura; “and I shall not be

unmindful of the service you have thus rendered me. But I now require

your aid in another matter----”

“Speak, my dear lady: I am entirely at your disposal,” observed the

dependant, who, in proportion as she obtained a farther insight into

the character of her mistress, felt the more certain of reaping a fine

harvest of rewards, bribes, and hush-money.

“There is in Paris at this moment an English nobleman concerning

whom I am desirous that you should obtain as much information as

you can possibly glean, without creating any suspicion or in any

way compromising me. I allude to the Marquis of Delmour,” continued

Laura: “but I know not where he is residing; nor can I offer the least

suggestion to guide you in instituting your inquiries.”

“Leave all that to me, _mademoiselle_,” said Rosalie.

“There is no time to be lost,” observed Laura, “this evening, or in the

course of to-morrow, must I have the information which I seek.”

“I am not in the habit of letting the grass grow beneath my feet,”

replied the French dependant, with an arch smile. “The moment you have

sat down to dinner, _mademoiselle_, I will sally forth; and should I

not return until a somewhat late hour----”

“No matter,” interrupted Laura: “I shall know that you are employed

in my interests. Unless, indeed,” she added, laughing, “you possess a

lover whose company may prove more agreeable to you than the task with

which I have entrusted you.”

“I have no lover in Paris--at present, _mademoiselle_,” observed

Rosalie.

“Then you admit that you have had a lover in your life-time?” said

Laura.

“Oh! certainly, _mademoiselle_,” exclaimed the pretty Frenchwoman:

“and--to speak candidly--I could not without some trouble reckon the

number of those who have proclaimed themselves my admirers.”

“The name of your lovers is Legion, then?” cried Laura, again laughing:

but it was the natural sensuality of her disposition which impelled her

thus to interrogate her servant;--for a licentious woman experiences a

voluptuous enjoyment in learning that another is as amorously inclined

or as downright abandoned as herself. And now that Laura’s spite

against Charles Hatfield was for the time appeased, and she had leisure

to ponder upon the handsome countenance and elegant figure of Captain

Barthelma, her imagination was becoming inflamed, and wanton ideas and

aspirations rose up in her brain.

“Oh! _mademoiselle_,” exclaimed Rosalie, with an archness of expression

that made her countenance particularly interesting at the moment; “you

must think me very vain and very silly for having made the remark which

fell so inconsiderately from my lips!”

“Not at all,” observed Laura: “you are pretty enough to have captivated

many hearts. And now tell me, my dear girl--have you passed through

such an ordeal without leaving your virtue behind? Be frank and candid:

I wish to know you thoroughly, that I may determine how far I can trust

you.”

“I dare say, _mademoiselle_, that you can form a tolerably accurate

guess in that respect,” said Rosalie, in a low tone and with a blushing

countenance. “Were I to tell you that I am pure and chaste, you would

not believe me, _mademoiselle_--and--and, you would be right.”

“Suppose, then, that you had suddenly conceived a great fancy for

a very handsome young man, Rosalie?” said Laura, her bosom heaving

voluptuously as she gradually approached the aim and object of the

present conversation.

“I should take care to let him perceive that if he chose to solicit,

it would not be in vain,” answered Rosalie, who already comprehended

that her mistress was not giving the discourse this turn without some

definite end in view.

“And you would be deeply grateful,” continued Laura, in a low but

significant tone, “to any friend who might assist you in the management

of the intrigue?”

“Decidedly, _mademoiselle_” replied the Frenchwoman: “the more so

that I myself should delight in rendering _my_ aid when and where the

services of so humble a being as I am could prove available.”

“Those services may be made available this very evening,” said Laura,

a voluptuous glow spreading over her fine countenance, while her eyes

became soft and melting in expression. “You must aid me, Rosalie, in

gratifying an ardent longing which has sprung up within my bosom during

the last few minutes, and which I may vainly struggle to subdue. But

the intrigue requires so much delicate management----”

“I can anticipate all you would say, _mademoiselle_,” interrupted

Rosalie: then, in a significant tone, she added, “Captain Barthelma is

decidedly one of the handsomest men I ever saw in my life.”

“You have conjectured rightly,” said Laura; “you have penetrated my

thoughts! Can you--will you serve me in the gratification of this

caprice of mine? But, remember--I must not be compromised in respect to

a living soul save Barthelma and yourself.”

“You know, _mademoiselle_, that you can trust to my fidelity, my

sagacity, and my prudence,” said Rosalie. “At what hour shall the

handsome Italian visit you?”

“At nine--this evening,” answered Laura: then referring to her watch,

she added, “It is already six--and you have plenty of work upon your

hands!”

“I will neglect nothing,” observed the lady’s-maid, in a tone of

confidence. “Would it not be prudent to send the cook out of the way

for the evening? For as the men-servants are on board-wages and sleep

elsewhere, and the cook is therefore the only dependant who could

possibly observe your proceedings, _mademoiselle_----”

“I leave all this to you, Rosalie,” interrupted Laura;--“and now we

have nothing more to say to each other for the present. Order the

dinner to be served up at once--and then must you hasten to fulfil the

commissions with which you are charged.”

Having thus given her parting instructions, Laura repaired to the

dining-room, where an elegant repast was speedily spread upon the

table; and a glass of sparkling champagne soon enhanced the brilliancy

of the voluptuous woman’s eyes, and heightened the rich glow that

suffused her countenance.

When the meal was over, a choice dessert was served up; and Laura was

now left alone.

She was almost sorry that she had gone so far in respect to the

intrigue which was to bring the handsome Castelcicalan to her arms: she

had admitted Rosalie too deeply into her confidence--placed herself too

completely in the power of her dependant. Even while she was conversing

with the wily Frenchwoman, she perceived and felt all this;--but her

sensuality triumphed over her prudence--her lascivious temperament

carried her on with a force which she could not resist, much less

subdue.

“And, after all,” she now reasoned to herself, “wherefore should I not

follow my inclinations in this respect? I am free to act according to

the impulse of my passions and the prompting of my desires. The night

that I passed with Charles--that one night of love and bliss--has

revived those ardent longings, those burning thoughts that demand

gratification. Besides, Rosalie will be trustworthy so long as she is

well paid; and I shall take care to keep her purse well filled. Sooner

or later she must have obtained a complete insight into my character:

why not, then, at once as well as hereafter? And the more firmly I bind

her to my interests, the less shall I need the services of my crafty,

selfish old mother. Would that I could manage my affairs and execute

my plans without my parent’s aid altogether! And who knows but that

even this consummation may be reached? Something tells me that the

Marquis of Delmour and I shall yet be more intimately acquainted. He

is old--but that is of little consequence. Wealth and a proud position

are my aims--and I care not by what means they are acquired. Oh! the

happiness of possessing such beauty as that wherewith I am endowed,--a

beauty which can never fail to crown me with triumph in all my

schemes!--in all my projects!”

She now regarded her watch, and discovered that it was eight o’clock.

“In another hour he will be here,” she thought within herself; and her

bosom heaved voluptuously. “Yes--in another hour that handsome Italian

will be in my presence--at least, if Rosalie fulfil her task with her

wonted sagacity and prudence. What will he think of me? Oh! let him

entertain any opinion that he may: I will bind him to secrecy by the

most solemn oaths--and I read enough in his countenance to convince me

that he is a man of honour!”

In this strain did the lovely but wanton creature pursue her

reflections, until it was nearly nine o’clock.

She then rose from her seat, and repaired to the kitchen, which was on

the same floor as her suite of apartments. The cook was not there; and

Laura was consequently satisfied that Rosalie had not forgotten the

precaution herself had suggested.

The syren now proceeded to the drawing-room, where with her own fair

hands she arranged wine, fruits, and cakes upon the table. She then

drew the curtains over the window, lighted the wax candles upon the

mantel, and scattered drops of delicious perfume upon the carpet and

the drapery.

Scarcely were these preparations completed, when the bell of the outer

door of the suite rang as if pulled by a somewhat impatient hand; and

Laura hastened to answer the summons.

She opened the door--and Captain Barthelma, the handsome Castelcicalan,

appeared upon the threshold.

“Is it possible that this can be true!” he exclaimed, his joy amounting

to a delirious excitement as his eyes fell upon the heroine of the

afternoon’s adventure in the Champs Elysées.

Laura smiled archly as she placed her finger upon her lip to impose

silence, at least until he should have entered her abode; and, having

closed the door carefully, she conducted him into the drawing-room.