The goldsmith's wife. A story

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Appletons’

New Handy-Volume Series

GOLDSMITH’S WIFE.

BY

Madame CHARLES REYBAUD.

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D. APPLETON

NEW YORK;

& COMPANY, PUBLISHERS.

Copyright by D. Appleton & Co., 1878.

APPLETONS’

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THE

GOLDSMITH’S WIFE

A STORY.

WO

BY y

Madame CHARLES REYBAUD.

NEW YORK:

H. APPLETON AND COMPANY,

649 AND 651 BEGAD WAY.

COPTEIGHT BY

D. APPLETON & COMPANY, 18T8.

THE GOLDSMITH’S WIFE.

Chapter I

On the evening of the FUe Fieu (a day observed with great respect by Proven9al people), in the year 1780, all the great houses of the city of Aix were, according to ancient custom, brilliantly lighted up, and hung with garlands of ribbons and flowers. Illuminations, representing the fleurs de Us of France, the arms of Provence, and the escutcheons of the noble families of the city and neighborhood, were suspended under the windows, over the doors, and upon the various churches and public buildings. These threw a rose- and smoke-colored light on the stone fa- 9ades, lighting up the old sculptures, and giving the gargoyles a sort of demoniacal expression.

The soft clearness of a full moon mingled with these deeper tints, and all together conspired to dispel the shadows of the narrow streets, and to diffuse a sort of twilight, which sufficed for the

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recognition of acquaintances, and prepared the eye for the glare of the coming torches. The shop-keepers loitered on the steps of their housesj while a curious multitude promenaded the principal streets, watching for the fantastic cavalcade, which proposed to represent a pious drama composed by the Good King Rene. In this quaint conceit the troubadour king had mixed up the divinities of Olympus, the personages of the Old Testament, and caricatures of his political enemies. All was mediaeval, including the costumes, and even the trappings of the horses, which were ridden by mock knights in armor. The musicians played, on pipe and tabor, the old airs written by the troubadour king. Shrill cries of impatience, the true Proven9al way of expressing all emotion, resounded from the crowd of common people, who filled all the streets which radiate from the Hotel de Ville.

The women were dressed modestly, wearing neither plumes, artificial flowers, nor jewelry, the most ambitious only permitting themselves a dash of that powder which was indispensable to an aristocratic head-dress. Distinction of rank was rigorously defined by dress in those days, and one needed but to hear the Proven9al dialect, and to glance at the dress of these people, to see that they belonged to the bourgeois class. Small merchants and even day-laborers composed the crowd which filled the street.

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As the trumpets announced that the cavalcade was about to march past the Hotel de Ville, a group of four or five young gentlemen burst rudely through the plebeian crowd and stopped at the corner of the Goldsmiths’ street. The new-comers hastened to appropriate to themselves the best places. They were handsome and stately men, dressed in the velvet coats, embroidered vests, lace ruffles, powdered hair, and chapeaux bras of the period. Young noblemen of the province, gentlemen of the court, gay, elegant, rich, and dissolute, they had already made themselves well known and feared in Aix. Their swords even had sometimes tasted plebeian blood, and they were not without the courage and the audacity which often characterize the man of pleasure.

The people of Aix had, however, their own robust respectability, and were not disposed to give way before a type which, bred in the sensual salons of the Regency, had even then begun to lose its influence in the provinces. But, while angry and insulted by their presumption, they had still no mind to make a fight on the evening of their great holiday, so the crowd silently if sullenly ceded to these new comers the best places.

One individual alone, who had stood since nightfall near the space which they invaded, partly hidden by a deep doorway, did not move.

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Jostle as they might, this man stood his ground, and seemed to become a part of them.

The gay young nobles, legs wide apart, loudvoiced, and swaggering, made themselves as conspicuous as possible, strutting about with all sorts of arrogant airs. Even when the illuminations failed to light them up, and to give them the prominence which they sought, they made themselves evident by their loud laughter, the perfume of Mar'echaU which they shook from their ambrosial locks, and their ostentatious jostling of the poorer people.

One of these men, more quiet than the others, and with the easy elegance of a Parisian about him, said to the noisiest and most foppish of the group of popinjays ; “ Come along, Nieuselle ; I am tired of all this. Let us go home, I beseech you.”

“ i^o,” said Nieuselle, “ not for another quarter of an hour. I ask your patience for that time.”

“ Then I shall go, to while away the time, and flirt with yon pretty brunette, who looks at us slyly from the corner of her eye. By Jove ! a very pretty woman.”

‘‘ You will not find it easy to draw her into conversation, I assure you,” said a third.

“ Bah ! where there’s a Avill there’s a way. I will talk some nonsense, which will seem to her to be the essence of wit and gallantry. For ex-

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ample, I shall say, ‘ Your eyes emit flames which burn our hearts. Mine burns for you, madame — ’ ”

“ Madame ! She will think you are making fun of her if you call her madame. These people say mademoiselle, or to the married women mise, which is theProven9al for mistress of the house.”

“ Gentlemen,” interrupted he whom they called Nieuselle, “ deign to listen to me for a moment. It is not without a design that I have brought you here to-night. I want to show you the heroine of one of my last adventures. Let me tell you the story.”

‘‘ What ! Nieuselle, you boast of your adventures ! ” cried a young man, dressed in the height of the fashion, with small clothes of olive-green, and a velvet coat embroidered with spring flowers.

‘‘ Why not ? ” replied Nieuselle, arranging his lace sleeve with an air of magnificent vanity. “ The adventure was admirable, and does me honor. And beyond that, I am not like anybody else. I tell of my defeats as well as of my victories. I know some very clever men who speak only of their successes, and Heaven knows they always have a great story to tell. I am not referring to you, Malvalet. — Gentlemen,” added he, turning to the others, “ I am going to tell you this story presently ; but just now look before you, there, at the corner of the street.”

‘‘I see nothing but a common goldsmith’s

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shop, sufficiently mediocre,” said the Parisian, “and in the shop a coarse, red-headed fellow, with his near-sighted eyes glued to his silver watch, as if he were counting the seconds.”

“ And who turns from time to time to speak to some one in the inner shop,” added the viscount.

“Very well,” said Nieuselle. “For a month T have given myself the satisfaction of contemplating this interior. I have stopped my carriage at this place where we are, and passed hours looking into this shop. It was an easy way to dance attendance, and I shall claim it as my invention. Generally speaking, I have had my labor for my pains, and gone away having seen nothing hut this pleasing figure of Bruno Brun ! ”

“ That wretch is named Bruno Brun ! Rather inappropriate for a man of his complexion,” said the viscount, throwing a look on the pale-red hair, which, curling a little on the forehead and growing long, was tied with a ribbon behind, like the wig of a lawyer. “ The poor man looks like a sunflower, with his flat head and red locks.”

“ I say that, to the great scandal of this quarter,” resumed Nieuselle, “I have come every evening to watch, yet I have managed with so much prudence that no one knows exactly why I am here, or what lady I honor with my attentions. Bruno Brun has no idea that it is his wife ! In fact, who the devil would suppose that

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I was in love with Mis4 Brun, a woman whom I had rarely seen and never spoken to ? ”

“ Is she one of those thundering beauties who strike you down like lightning ? ” asked the Parisian, with a sneer.

“ Thundering — yes, that is the word,” replied Nieuselle. ‘‘ I have fallen over head and ears in love, just from seeing her profile. This intense fancy brings me here every evening, and you could scarcely guess how much in love I am. On the other side of the street husbands open their terrified eyes, and the mothers of families forbid their daughters to go out of an evening. Upon my soul, wives and daughters have nothing to fear from me ; I am dreaming alone of my dear Rose.”

Bruno Brim’s wife is named Rose ! ” interrupted the viscount. Another antithesis ! But continue your story ; it keeps me in suspense. Heaven bless me ! but I should have liked to see you in this tranquil attitude of benumbed lover ! ”

“ Why do you call me a benumbed lover ? ” replied Nieuselle. “ Do you think I would have waited so long a time for the sole hope of seeing the profile of my divinity a second time ? I had something else in my head. I waited to see her go out some evening from her house, alone or attended ; it made no matter which. I should have followed her. A hundred steps from here I should have alighted, and should have seized her

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and carried her off. It would not have been difficult. It was winter — nobody in the street ; the watchmen are never out after nine o’clock. I seemed very near to the fulfillment of my intentions. But the household of Bruno Brun is formed on a plan which defeats everything. His wife never goes out except on Sunday morning to hear mass in the church of St.-Sauveur, and one cannot run away with her by daylight.”

‘‘ Ah ! my dear Nieuselle, I don’t agree with you in your way of doing things,” said the Parisian. “ I do not like making love with a mailed hand. It seems to me that in a love affair I should wish to win a woman’s heart by the ordinary method — visits, love-letters, gifts if you please. It is better, it seems to me, to win a woman than to seize her, Tarquin-like. It is so easy to abduct ; it is so vulgar, it is so rude.”

“ If it had been vulgar, easy, difficult, rude, even possible, I should have done it,” said Nieuselle. “ I see that you do not comprehend the severity of bourgeois manners. It is more difficult to be introduced to one of them than to make the acquaintance of a princess of the blood. I have tried to get into the goldsmith’s house by passing carelessly through his shop. I have made many purchases of him, but his wife is never behind the counter. I have bought, I believe, all his silver watches and many of his brass rings ; I have priced all the clocks in his stock,

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without having once had the happiness to see my goddess. As for love-letters, I have no means of sending them, for nobody has access to the house, whose gates are guarded by two frightful female demons — an old aunt and an old servant, who help tend the shop, keep house, and never lose sight of the young and pretty wife. After a month’s watching I retire, convinced that I must renounce the methods which I have employed. All these difficulties spur me on. I dream of her day and night ; I am enraged ; I am in despair ! At length an idea occurred to me, a diabolical idea. By the adroit service of one of my people, I found out all the private affairs of Bruno Brun’s father. I learned that old Brun, one of the respected heads of the honorable corporation of goldsmiths, had left his business to his son, and retired to a country house three leagues from here, near our estate of Nieuselle on the road to Manosque. Do you know that country, viscount ? ”

I remember. A narrow gorge in the mounlains, of which travelers are shy after sunset. Indeed, I have heard there is one defile where peddlers are often robbed.”

‘‘ The same. The road seemed a feasible one for an ambuscade, the spot where thieves often attack foot passengers. I resolved to become a highwayman and to steal, not Bruno Brun’s purse, but his wife. Now, listen, and admire the

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ruse by which I brought out this secluded female, who never even takes the air at her window, into this dangerous valley — she who knows no other road than that from her house to the church ! One day Vascongado, my coachman, dressed and taught by me, quitted his livery for a coat of brown cloth, sheepskin gaiters, and the coarse wooden shoes of a peasant. Thus disguised, he presented himself to the goldsmith, telling him with an agitated face that old Brun had had a fall, and was much hurt, saying, ‘ I am sent here by your father to tell you that he is almost dead. As it is a good day for business, however, he forbids your quitting the shop, but he wants your wife’s care. As his next neighbor, I volunteered to come to Aix to find her. I saddled my ass, and came quickly. Good old friends should help each other when they can. We ought to start as soon as possible, for it looks like rain and it is getting late.’ Thus Vascongado !

“ Bruno Brun fell into the trap immediately. An hour afterward my turtle-dove left her owl’s nest, and flew softly toward the quarter where the adroit poacher had spread his snare. Yes, my good friends, a little before sunset Mise Brun, under the protection of Vascongado and accompanied by her old servant, traveled toward Nieuselle. As you know the country, viscount, you remember doubtless that, before arriving at tliat not-too-well-spoken-of inn, the Red Horse, the

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road winds round between great rocks which are like the ruined walls of a castle. It is a cut-throat, villainous place, where you cannot see twenty steps in front of you. I had placed my giant Siffroi, a haidouJc, there. He could carry off the witch Hecate ! I told him to take care of the old servant — pretty nearly the same thing ! ”

“ This was a foolish risk, Nieuselle,” said the viscount. “What may you not have brought down upon yourself ? Justice will look after lovers who pursue their courtship in this style, I fear ! ”

“ Justice will never hear of it,” said Nieuselle, laughing. “ Ho you think I declared my name and quality ? No ; I did better. I assumed the rdle of bandit among these rocks. I put a wagoner’s coat over my hunting dress, a handkerchief around my chin, a big hat pulled over my face, so that there was nothing left but my eyes. Siffroi wore the same costume, and we looked like two very good thieves ; the disguise was successful. Meantime it began to grow dark, and I confess some disagreeable thoughts presented themselves. I saw a good many horsemen, dangerous-looking fellows, pass and repass. They seemed to be scouring the country. I unfortunately remembered that the band of that outlaw, that deserter, Gaspard de Besse, sometimes traveled this way, and I said to myself, ‘ What ? perhaps, instead of my dove being caught in my net, I, a lamb, may

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fall into tlie jaws of a very hungry wolf ! That was not down in the hills ! ’ I felt very uneasy, I assure you ! ”

‘‘Why don’t you confess bravely that you were horribly frightened ? ” said Malvalet.

“ A slight inquietude merely,” said Nieuselle. “ I forgot all about Gaspard de Besse when I heard a piping like a screech owl, which was Vascongado’s signal. I came boldly forward on top of the rocks, and took a position where I looked well, and could also reconnoitre the country. I waited. Night had fallen, but the moon, which was just rising, lighted the road so well that I could easily distinguish my prey. Vascongado and the servant walked, my goddess followed, seated on the pannier. Never did white palfrey proudly carry a beauty so supreme as she who now guided this stupid farm-beast. She looked like the Virgin Mary, in the pictures of the flight into Egypt. When she was six feet from me I threw down a rock which barred her passage. As I jumped into the road, the poor thing shrieked aloud. ‘ Fear nothing, my queen ! ’ said I, with tenderness ; ‘ I ask neither your purse nor your life.’ ‘ Then let me pass, sir,’ said she, in a trembling voice ; ‘ let me pass, I pray you;’ and she looked for Vascongado, who had disappeared. The old servant clung to her mistress and said her prayers. Siffroi put one hand on her shoulder, while I threw my arm around the delicate waist of Mise Brun,

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but the fierce little bourgeoise jumped lightly to the earth. ‘ Do not approach me ! ’ said she, in a resolute tone, and I absolutely saw a knife gleam in her hand. She positively thought she could defend herself ! I terrified her with one word. ‘ Silence ! ’ said I, in an awful voice. ‘ Whoever falls into my hands never escapes. I am Gaspard de Besse ! ’ ”

“ Capital ! ” said Malvalet, shrugging his shoulders. “You made your first advances in lovemaking under his name, did you ? ”

“ That is my business,” said Nieuselle. “You shall see how the plan succeeded. At the name of Gaspard de Besse, Mise Brun nearly fainted, and the old servant, thinking her last hour had come, committed her soul to God in an audible voice.

“ ‘ Dear sir ! ’ said Mise Brun to me in her sweet frightened voice, and emptying her pockets, *■ take all my money ! ’

“ ‘ Keep it ! ’ said I, in terrific tones, ‘ and walk on before me, nor turn your head.’

“ She obeyed, weeping. The old servant followed us, under Siffroi’s wing. Mise Brun then tried to soften me. ‘ God in Heaven ! sir, where do you lead us ? I assure you, you risk much in doing this deed of violence. Let us go, and T swear by my hopes of eternal happiness that I will not denounce you ! Here, take my gold cross and my mopey ; it is all I have ! ’

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“ ‘ Silence ! ’ said I, in a deep bass voice, which appeared to freeze the blood in her dear blue veins.

‘‘We had almost reached the Red Horse inn when I heard a noise in the road behind me. A horseman came up at a fast trot; necessarily he would reach the inn before us. This was awkward. I feared a disagreeable encounter, some robber or some of the mounted police, perhaps, who were constantly sent out to search for Gaspard de Besse and his band ; either would have been inconvenient. But I was reassured at the first glance. It was a good country gentleman, whose homely appearance announced the most pacific intentions. He acted queerly, however, rode near us, and looked at us suspiciously, but was passing on, when Mis4 Brun, with a presence of mind which I could not have expected, threw herself toward him and seized the bridle of his horse at the risk of her life. ‘ Ah ! sir,’ she shrieked, ‘ save me in Heaven’s name ! ’

“ He stopped quickly, and turned his horse’s head toward me. ‘What has happened?’ said he, feeling for his pistols.

“ ‘ Defend yourself,’ cried Mise Brun to him, ‘or you are lost. This — this — is Gaspard de Besse ! ’

“At these words my gentleman left me no time to explain ; he took aim, and at my head too. But for a cloud which happened to pass over

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the moon, I should have been a dead man. The ball went through my brigand’s hat. I did not wait for a second discharge.

And you ran away ! ” intemipted the spiteful Mai valet. “ For your honor’s sake, you should have vanquished your enemy or have died on the battle-field ! ”

“ My dear friend,” said Nieuselle, “ this was not in my plan. I did not propose to win Mise Brun in a single combat. And besides that, it was now impossible, for her champion, supposing me to be Gaspard de Besse, would have shot me down like a wild beast before I could have explained. I beat a hasty retreat, I assure you.”

‘‘ That is to say, you ran like a rabbit across the fields toward Nieuselle. And yet you were three to one. Oh ! for shame ! ”

‘‘Oh! do you believe that Yascongado and Siffroi were bravely fighting at my side ? By no means. The two clowns took good care to run away and hide in the rocks, leaving the old servant also free to try her two legs. It was a general rout, a demoralized retreat. I followed them. They deserved a good caning, and I told them so ; but I forgave them on condition that they would behave better during the rest of the expedition.”

“ What ! you still pursued your expedition after this check ? ” said Malvalet.

“ In my place you would doubtless have given 2

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up,” said Nieuselle, disdainfully ; “but I — Zbad more perseverance and audacity. Arriving at my chateau, I changed back again from bandit to gentleman. Vascongado and Siffroi resumed their liveries. Then we turned our horses’ heads toward the Red Horse inn. The metamorphosis was complete. Far from looking like a brigand, I resembled more Amadis de Gaul, that hero of the opera, with my silver-embroidered vest and my hunting-hat ornamented with green ribbons. My hciidouJc, dressed in his Hungarian costume, was of course unrecognizable. My coachman was in the well-known time-honored livery of the proud family of Nieuselle, not at all the peasant in sheepskins and wooden shoes. Scarcely an hour after the scene in the road I arrived at the inn. Glorious ! I had achieved my object. Mis6 Brun was detained ! ”

“ And she came of herself to the net ; she threw herself before you ; you had only to extend your hand and catch your bird,” cried the viscount. “Bravo ! Well done, Nieuselle ! ”

“ I alighted,” said he ; “ but, before entering this horrible hole, I looked into the windows at the group gathered in the cabaret. It was a singular picture : A room full of smoke, at once parlor, dining-room, and kitchen. Near a great fire of fagots, which sent out a weird light, crouched two old women, and between their yellow faces and distorted features beamed the adorable face

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of Mise Brun, who, pale and sad, heard without speaking the talk of her servant and the landlady. I had to demand an entrance at this hour, for the doors of the inn were securely fastened.

“ At length I entered with my suite, and the host, who knew me, introduced me with much respect into his kitchen. This apparition struck Mise Brun, I avow with all humility. She looked pleased. She made a place for me by her side near the fire, and then modestly returned to her reflections and reserve.

“ ‘ Ah ! Monsieur le Marquis,’ said my host, respectfully, ‘you see some travelers who have just had a perilous adventure. The band of Gaspard de Besse has been near here. They only passed this way an hour ago ! ’

“ Then I was obliged to listen to the story of my own flight and the prowess of the good countryman who traveled with pistols at his saddlebow, for his own security and to defend the helpless.

“ ‘ If the roads are so dangerous as that,’ said I, ‘I cannot go on to Nieuselle. I must pass the night here. Get me up the best supper you can ; bring out all the good wine from your cellar. I will make myself easy until to-morrow.’

“ The host and his wife looked confused. ‘ Is there no room,’ said I, ‘ where I can sup, waited upon by my own people, and choosing my own company ? ’

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The host ran to open an adjoining room, and showed me the furniture admiringly — six straw chairs and a bed hung with green woolen curtains, so dark that they looked like the draperies of a hearse. Throwing my eyes around the whitewashed walls, I perceived under the recent painting some brown irregular stains which set me thinking. ‘ What does that mean ? ’ said I. ‘ I see that your walls have been recently stained. What has happened here ? ’

“ ‘ Oh ! God bless you, sir, do not speak of that. Two men had a quarrel in the night, and one killed the other. Happily, nothing came of it, and it was not for me to ruin my house by calling in such justice as we have. They were alone in the house. Once my door is shut it is nobody’s business to inquire what passes in the Red Horse inn.”

“ ‘ I know that,’ said I. ‘ Light me a good fire, set the table^ and when supper is served do you go to bed.’

“ The old rascal obeyed me. I returned to a seat near Mise Brun, and drew her into conversation. I congratulated her on having escaped Gaspard de Besse. I seasoned my conversation with well-turned compliments, but these humble -women have a kind of savage modesty over which it is not easy to triumph. She heard me without raising her eyes, or replying save by a gentle bow ; and, turning to her servant, she said, in a

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low voice, ‘ Let us go, Madelon, it is growing late.’ ‘ What,’ said I, ‘ my charming creature, do you wish to leave me so early ? Remain, I beg of you, a moment longer. Where will you go ? Into those miserable garret bedrooms, where you will shiver until morning ? Make yourself happy here near the warm fire.’

‘‘ She stopped a moment, and looked as if she would linger by the fire ; then, as I insisted, she curtseyed with an adorable mixture of confusion and simplicity, saying, ‘ I thank you, sir ; it is too much honor for me. I cannot accept your invitation.’

‘‘ I laughingly barred the passage between her and the door, uttering all the follies I could think of. This time she recoiled, and listened with a dignity which alarmed me. My friends, you know women who baffle you, not with angry words, but with sullen silence ; a sort of deaf and dumb resistance ? It is a style which confuses the most audacious ! My orders had all been executed ; the host and his wife had disappeared; my servants were arranging the supper. I approached Mis4 Brun. ‘Come, my pretty one,’ said I, with an air at once gallant and imperious, ‘ I have resolved thr^t we shall sup together this evening. Grant me this favor with amiability. I am a gentleman. I assure you I do not brook contradiction. Destiny offers me an opportunity to sup with the prettiest woman in the kingdom ;