Part 36 (2/2)

Finding myself in the corridor, where there were no other keys on the outside, I began to shout in a stentorian voice: 'Armide, open the door!' No one opened the door, and the waiter informed me that, during my controversy with the soldier, the lady had hastily left with her escort. But where had she gone? That was what no one could tell me. I returned home; I found no one there but my mother-in-law, who called me a visionary; and that night, at the first words that I said to my wife, she locked herself into her room and refused to admit me. That is my situation, my friend; I dreamed again of George Dandin, and I hurried here this morning to tell you about it.”

Belan ceased to speak. I was still tempted to laugh, but I restrained myself.

”In all this that you have told me,” I said to him, ”there are presumptions, but no proofs.”

”Ah! for us fellows, my dear Blemont, who have had so many adventures, who know all about such things, they are quite as good as proofs.”

”The waiter may have been mistaken; perhaps it wasn't the marquis; you didn't see him, did you?”

”No, for they had gone, and I had no desire to wait for the artilleryman.”

”You did not act shrewdly.”

”That is true, I was a perfect donkey; I lost my head.”

”You must distrust appearances, my poor Belan; I am better able than anybody to tell you that.”

”The deuce! do you mean that you have had suspicions about madame?”

”I? Oh no! never! but she had suspicions about me, and very ill-founded ones too, I promise you.”

”The deuce! suppose I was wrong! What do you advise me to do?”

”Wait, keep your eyes open, and watch, but with prudence; or else frankly ask your wife to explain her conduct yesterday; perhaps it was all very simple and innocent.”

”In fact, that is quite possible. The one thing that is certain is that I acted like a child. Dear Blemont, you calm my pa.s.sions. After all, just because a young man comes often to one's house, and is attentive to one's wife, that doesn't prove--for you yourself are not jealous of Monsieur Dulac, who is always at your house, and who often acts as escort to your wife. My mother-in-law was talking about it only the other day to my wife.”

”Indeed! those ladies were talking about me, eh?”

”No, they were simply talking about Monsieur Dulac. Armide thinks that he is a very handsome man, but for my part, I see nothing extraordinary about him. Then they cited you as an example; they said: 'There's a husband who is not jealous; look at him! Monsieur Dulac is his wife's regular escort, and he doesn't seem to notice it; he is a husband who knows how to live.' And then they laughed, because, you know, when the women begin to pa.s.s us in review, there's no end to it.--Well, well!

What are you thinking about, my dear fellow? You are not listening to me.”

”I beg your pardon; I was thinking that the world notices things, which we, who are most interested in them, often do not notice at all.”

”You advise me to wait, to watch, and to be prudent; I will do it. If I should acquire proofs--Oh! then I shall explode, I shall be terrible, inflexible. Adieu, my dear fellow, I will leave you, for I see that you are preoccupied. Au revoir.”

Belan took his leave, and I bade him adieu with no desire to laugh. It was strange what an effect had been produced upon me by what he had told me of the comments of his wife and her mother. They noticed that Monsieur Dulac was an a.s.siduous guest at my house and very attentive to my wife; and I myself had not noticed it. That was because I saw no harm in it, whereas the world is so evil-minded! And calumny is such a delicious weapon. Figaro was quite right: ”Calumny, always calumny!”

Although I knew that it was mere malicious gossip, I involuntarily pa.s.sed in review Monsieur Dulac's conduct. I recalled his earnest desire to be received at my house after the ball from which he had escorted my wife home.

I became sad and pensive; I was conscious of a discomfort, a feeling of disquietude which I had never known before. I wondered if that was the way in which jealousy made itself felt. But what nonsense! What was I thinking about? It was that Belan, who had upset me with his own conjugal misfortunes. That his wife deceived him was possible, yes, probable; she had never loved him; but my Eugenie, who used to love me so much, and who loved me still, I hoped--although jealousy had soured her disposition to some extent! But that very jealousy was a proof of love. And she had ceased to be jealous. Why? Ah! Belan need not have reported those remarks to me! He did it from malice.

To banish such thoughts, I left my study. I heard the piano; my wife was in the salon, and the sight of her would cause me to forget all the nonsense that had been pa.s.sing through my mind. I entered abruptly.

Monsieur Dulac was there, seated near my wife,--in fact, very near, as it seemed to me. At that moment, I admit that his presence caused me a very unpleasant sensation.

Dulac rose hastily and came toward me.

”Good-afternoon, Monsieur Blemont. I have brought madame a lovely fantasia on a favorite air of Rossini's. Madame plays it at sight with such a.s.surance and such taste!”

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