voice of Dumay at her door.
"Writing to my father," she answered; "did you not tell me you should
start in the morning?"
Dumay had nothing to say to that, and he went to bed, while Modeste
wrote another long letter, this time to her father.
On the
morrow, Francois Cochet, terrified at
seeing the Havre postmark
on the
envelope which Ernest had mailed the night before, brought her
young
mistress the following letter and took away the one which
Modeste had written:--
To Mademoiselle O. d'Este M.,--My heart tells me that you were the
woman so carefully veiled and
disguised, and seated between
Monsieur and Madame Latournelle, who have but one child, a son.
Ah, my love, if you have only a
modest station, without
distinction, without importance, without money even, you do not
know how happy that would make me. You ought to understand me by
this time; why will you not tell me the truth? I am no poet,--
except in heart, through love, through you. Oh! what power of
affection there is in me to keep me here in this hotel, instead of
mounting to Ingouville which I can see from my windows. Will you
ever love me as I love you? To leave Havre in such uncertainty! Am
I not punished for
loving you as if I had committed a crime? But I
obey you
blindly. Let me have a letter quickly, for if you have
been
mysterious, I have returned you
mystery for
mystery, and I
must at last throw off my
disguise, show you the poet that I am,
and abdicate my borrowed glory.
This letter made Modeste
terriblyuneasy. She could not get back the
one which Francoise had carried away before she came to the last
words, whose meaning she now sought by
reading them again and again;
but she went to her own room and wrote an answer in which she demanded
an immediate explanation.
CHAPTER XIV
MATTERS GROWN COMPLICATED
During these little events other little events were going on in Havre,
which caused Modeste to forget her present
uneasiness. Dumay went down
to Havre early in the morning, and soon discovered that no
architecthad been in town the day before. Furious at Butscha's lie, which
revealed a
conspiracy of which he was
resolved to know the meaning, he
rushed from the mayor's office to his friend Latournelle.
"Where's your Master Butscha?" he demanded of the notary, when he saw
that the clerk was not in his place.
"Butscha, my dear fellow, has gone to Paris. He heard some news of his
father this morning on the quays, from a Swedish sailor. It seems the
father went to the Indies and served a
prince, or something, and he is
now in Paris."
"Lies! it's all a trick! infamous! I'll find that
damnedcripple if
I've got to go express to Paris for him," cried Dumay. "Butscha is
deceiving us; he knows something about Modeste, and hasn't told us. If
he meddles in this thing he shall never be a notary. I'll roll him in
the mud from which he came, I'll--"
"Come, come, my friend; never hang a man before you try him," said
Latournelle, frightened at Dumay's rage.
After stating the facts on which his suspicions were founded, Dumay
begged Madame Latournelle to go and stay at the Chalet during his
absence.
"You will find the
colonel in Paris," said the notary. "In the
shipping news quoted this morning in the Journal of Commerce, I found
under the head of Marseilles--here, see for yourself," he said,
offering the paper. "'The Bettina Mignon, Captain Mignon, arrived
October 6'; it is now the 17th, and the
colonel is sure to be in
Paris."
Dumay requested Gobenheim to do without him in future, and then went
back to the Chalet, which he reached just as Modeste was sealing her
two letters, to her father and Canalis. Except for the address the
letters were
precisely alike both in weight and appearance. Modeste
thought she had laid that to her father over that to her Melchior, but
had, in fact, done exactly the
reverse. This mistake, so often made in
the little things of life, occasioned the discovery of her secret by
Dumay and her mother. The former was talking vehemently to Madame
Mignon in the salon, and revealing to her his fresh fears caused by