The Clique of Gold by Emile Gaboriau (polar express read aloud .TXT) 📕

She continued to fix her eyes upon him. He turned his head aside, feeling as if, under her obstinate gaze, his mind left him, his energy evaporated, and all the fibres of his strong will were breaking.

“Great God!” exclaimed Miss Brandon, with grieved surprise; “he still doubts me. Sir, I pray you, speak! Do you doubt the authenticity of these letters? Ah, if you do, take them; for I do not hesitate to confide them, the only proofs of my innocence, to your honor. Take them and show them to the other clerks who have been sitting for twenty years in the same office with Malgat; and they will tell you that it is his handwriting; that he has signed his own condemnation. And, if that is not enough for you, go to the magistrate who examined me; his name is Patrigent.”

And she waited, waited, but not a word came forth.

Daniel had sunk, undone, into a chair; and his elbow resting on a small stand, his brow in his hands, he endeavored to think, to reason. Then Miss Brandon rose, came gently up to him, and taking his hand, said softly,—

“I beseech you!”

But as if suddenly electrified by the touch of this soft, warm hand, Daniel rose so hastily, that he upset the chair; and, trembling with mysterious terror, he cried out,—

“Kergrist!”

It was as if a fearful insult had set Miss Brandon on fire. Her face turned crimson, and then, almost instantly, livid; and, stepping back a little, she darted at Daniel a look of burning hatred.

“Oh!” she murmured, “oh!” finding, apparently, no words to express all she felt.

Was she going away? It looked as if she thought of it, for she walked to the door; but, suddenly changing her mind, she came back to where she had stood, facing Daniel.

“This is the first time in my life,” she said, trembling with rage, “that I condescend to justify myself against such infamous charges; and you abuse my patience by heaping insult after insult upon me. But never mind. I look upon you as upon Henrietta’s husband; and, since I have commenced, I mean to finish.”

Daniel tried to say a few words of apology; but she interrupted him,—

“Well, yes; one night a young man, Charles de Kergrist,—a profligate, a gambler, crowning his scandalous life with the vilest and meanest act,—did come and kill himself under my window. The next day a great outcry arose against me. Three days later the brother of that wretched madman, a M. Rene de Kergrist, came and held M. Elgin to account. But do you know what came of these explanations? Charles de Kergrist, it appears, killed himself after a supper, which he left in a state of drunkenness. He committed suicide because he had lost his fortune at Homburg and at Baden; because he had exhausted his last resources; because his family, ashamed at his disgrace, refused to acknowledge him any longer. And, if he chose my window for his self-murder, it was because he wanted to satisfy a petty grievance. Looking upon me as an heiress, whose fortune would enable him to continue his extravagant life, he had courted me, and been refused by M. Elgin. Finally, at the time when the catastrophe occurred, I was sixty miles away from here, in Tours, staying at the house of one of M. Elgin’s friends, M. Palmer, who deposed”—

And, as Daniel looked at her with an air of utter bewilderment, she added,—

“Perhaps you will ask me for proofs of what I state. I have none to give you. But I know a man who can give you what you want, and that man is M. de Kergrist’s brother; for, after those explanations, he has continued to be our friend, sir, one of our best friends. And he was here to-night, and you have seen him; for he came and spoke to me while you were standing by me. M. de Kergrist lives here in Paris; and M. Elgin will give you his address.”

She looked at Daniel with a glance in which pity and contempt were strangely mixed, and then added, in her proudest tone,—

“And now, sir, since I have deigned to stand here like a criminal, do you sit in judgment on me. Question me, and I will answer. What else are you going to charge me with?”

A judge, however, ought to be calm; and Daniel was but too conscious of his deep excitement; he knew he could not even prevent his features from expressing his utter bewilderment. He gave up all discussion therefore, and simply said,—

“I believe you, Miss Brandon, I believe you.”

Miss Brandon’s beautiful eyes lighted up for a moment with joy; and in a tone of voice which sounded like the echo of her heart, she said,—

“Oh, thank you, sir! now I am sure you will grant me Miss Henrietta’s friendship.”

Why did she mention that name? It broke the charm which had overcome Daniel. He saw how weak he had been, and was ashamed of himself.

He said sternly, thus proving his anger at himself, and the failure of his judgment,—

“Permit me not to reply to that to-night. I should like to consider.”

She looked at him half stupefied.

“What do you mean?” she said. “Have I, or have I not, removed your doubts, your insulting suspicions? Perhaps you wish to consult one of my enemies?”

She spoke in a tone of such profound disdain, that Daniel, stung to the quick, forgot the discretion which he had intended to observe, and said,—

“Since you insist upon it, Miss Brandon, I must confess that there is one doubt which you have not removed.”

“Which?”

Daniel hesitated, regretting the words he had allowed to escape him. But he had gone too far now to retract. He replied,—

“I do not understand, Miss Brandon, how you can marry Count Ville- Handry.”

“Why not?”

“You are young. You are immensely rich, you say. The count is sixty-six years old.”

She, who had been so daring that nothing seemed to be able to disconcert her, now lowered her head like a timid boarding-school girl who has been caught acting contrary to rules; and a flood of crimson spread over her face, and every part of her figure which was not concealed by her dress.

“You are cruel, sir!” she stammered; “the secret into which you pry is one of those which a girl hardly dares to confide to her mother.”

He was triumphant, thinking he had caught her at last.

“Ah, indeed!” he said ironically.

But the proud young lady did not waver, and replied with bitter sadness,—

“You will have it so; be it so. For your sake, I will lay aside that veil of proud reserve which conceals the mysteries of a young girl’s heart. I do not love Count Ville-Handry.”