Charles Reade

“ He forgot, in his lofty rage, who stood beside him.
“What?—what?” cried Raynal.
“No matter,” said Camille; “only I esteem YOU, Raynal. You are truth; you are a man, and deserve a better lot.”
“Don’t say that,” replied Raynal, quite misunderstanding him. “It is a soldier’s end: I never desired nor hoped a better: only, of course, I feel sad. You are a happy fellow, to have a child and to live to see it, and her you love.”
“Oh, yes, I am very happy,” replied the poor fellow, his lip quivering.
“Watch over all those poor women, comrade, and sometimes speak to them of me. ”

“ YOU need not blush to tell him all. I have no right. Then you will give him his poor Josephine’s boy, and you will say to him, ‘She never loved but you: she gives you all that is left of her, her child. She only prays you not to give him a bad mother.’”
Poor soul! this was her one bit of little, gentle jealousy; but it made her eyes stream. She would have put out her hand from the tomb to keep her boy’s father single all his life.
“Oh! my Josephine, my darling sister,” cried Rose, “why do you speak of death? Do you meditate a crime?” ”

“ Josephine, who had tottered up from her seat at Rose’s words, sank heavily down again, and murmured, “Ah! the grave holds all that love me now.”
Rose ran to her side. “Cruel Josephine! what, do not I love you? Mother, will you not help me persuade her to live? Oh! if she dies, I will die too; you will kill both your children.”
Stern and indignant as the baroness was, yet these words pierced her heart. She turned with a piteous, half apologetic air to Edouard and Aubertin. “Gentlemen,” said she, “she has been foolish, not guilty. Heaven pardons the best of us. ”

“ I shall go to-night.”
“To-night, Camille?” said Josephine, turning pale.
“Ay! for to-night I am strong; to-morrow I may be weak. To-night everything thrusts me on the right path. To-morrow everything will draw me from it. Do not cry, beloved one; you and I have a hard fight. We must be true allies; whenever one is weak, then is the time for the other to be strong. I have been weaker than you, to my shame be it said; but this is my hour of strength. A light from heaven shows me my path. I am full of passion, but like you I have honor. You are Raynal’s wife, and—Raynal saved my life.” ”

“ Josephine shall put them on for me. I will take honor as well as happiness from her dear hand. But you are her sister, and what are epaulets compared with what she will give me? You shall put them on, dear. Come, then you will be sure I bear no malice.”
Rose, faint at heart, consented in silence, and fastened on the epaulets. “Yes, Camille!” she cried, with sudden terror, “think of glory, now; nothing but glory.”
“No one thinks of it more. But to-day how can I think of it, how can I give her a rival? To-day I am all love. Rose, no man ever loved a human creature as I love Josephine. ”

“ Dear Camille, I have been reared in a strict school: and perhaps none of your sex can know what it cost me to go to Frejus that day with him I love.”
“My own Josephine!”
“I made but one condition: that you would not rob me of my mother’s respect: to her our hasty marriage would appear monstrous, heartless. You consented to be secretly happy for six months. One fortnight has passed, and you are discontented again.”
“Oh, no! do not think so. It is every word true. I am an ungrateful villain.”
“How dare you say so? and to me! No! but you are a man.” ”

“ At length Rose contrived to draw him aside, and, hiding her curiosity under feigned nonchalance, asked him what the referee had decided. He told her that was a secret for the present.
“Well, but,” said Rose, “not from me. Edouard and I have no secrets.”
“Come, that’s good,” said Raynal. “Why, you are the very one he warned me against the most; said you were as curious as Mother Eve, and as sharp as her needle.”
“Then he is a little scurrilous traitor,” cried Rose, turning very red. “So that is how he talks of me behind my back, and calls me an angel to my face; I’ll pay him for this. ”

“ Josephine crouched behind Rose, and gasped out, “Something terrible is coming, terrible! terrible!”
“Say something hateful,” said Rose, trembling in her turn, but only with anger. “The heartless selfish traitor! He never notices you till you are married to the noblest of mankind; and then he comes here directly to ruin your peace. No; I have altered my mind. He shall not see you, of course; but YOU shall hear HIM. I’ll soon make you know the wretch and loathe him as I do. There, now he has turned the corner; hide in the oak while he is out of sight. Hide, quick, quick.” ”

“ Josephine blushed.
“If you wanted me to live, why did you not come here before?”
“I did not think you would be so foolish, so wicked, so cruel as to do what you have been doing.”
“Come and shine upon me every day, and you shall have no fresh cause of complaint; things flourish in the sunshine that die in the dark: Rose, it is as if the sun had come into my prison; you are pale, but you are beautiful as ever—more beautiful; what a sweet dress! so quiet, so modest, it sets off your beauty instead of vainly trying to vie with it.” ”

“ She seized it and kissed it. “You are great, you are generous; you will not strike me as a woman strikes; you will not die to drive me to despair.”
“I see,” said he, more gently, “love is gone, but pity remains. I thought that was gone, too.”
“Yes, Camille,” said Josephine, in a whisper, “pity remains, and remorse and terror at what I have done to a man of whom I was never worthy.”
“Well, madame, as you have come at last to me, and even do me the honor to ask me a favor—I shall try—if only out of courtesy—to—ah, Josephine! Josephine! ”

“ Rose assented, and they were silent a minute; and when she spoke again it was to own she loved a carriage. “How fast we glide! Now lean back with me, and take my hand, and as we glide shut your eyes and think: whisper me all your feelings, every one of them.”
“Well, then,” said Josephine, half closing her eyes, “in the first place I feel a great calm, a heavenly calm. My fate is decided. No more suspense. My duties are clear. I have a husband I am proud of. There is no perfidy with him, no deceit, no disingenuousness, no shade. He is a human sun. ”

“ I shall never disobey the angel who loves me, my only friend upon the earth.”
A single deep sob from Josephine was all the answer.
Then he could not help asking her why she had not trusted him?
“Why did you not say to me long ago, ‘I love you, but I am a wife; my husband is an honest soldier, absent, and fighting for France: I am the guardian of his honor and my own; be just, be generous, be self-denying; depart and love me only as angels love’? Perhaps this might have helped me to show you that I too am a man of honor.” ”

“ Josephine smiled sadly. “Dear Edouard,” said she, “you must not attach so much importance to every word we say. Does Rose at her age know everything? Is she a prophet? Perhaps she really fancies she will always love her sister as she does now; but you are a man of sense; you ought to smile and let her talk. When you marry her you will take her to your own house; she will only see me now and then; she will have you and your affection always present. Each day some new tie between you and her. You two will share every joy, every sorrow. ”

“ Doctor, when a woman of my age forms such wishes as these, I think you might pity her, and forgive her ill-treatment of you, for she cannot be very happy. Ah me! ah me! ah me!”
“Courage, poor soul! All is now in my hands, and I will save you,” said the doctor, his voice trembling in spite of him. “Guilt lies in the intention. A more innocent woman than you does not breathe. Two courses lay open to you: to leave this house with Camille Dujardin, or to dismiss him, and live for your hard duty till it shall please Heaven to make that duty easy (no middle course was tenable for a day) ”

“ Camille’s mind began to misgive him. What was become of Josephine? she did not appear. He faltered out, “Your mother is well; all are well I hope. Oh, where is she?” and receiving no reply, began to tremble visibly with the fear of some terrible calamity.
Rose, with a sister fainting close by, and this poor lover trembling before her, lost all self-command, and began to wring her hands and cry wildly. “Camille,” she almost screamed, “there is but one thing for you to do; leave Beaurepaire on the instant: fly from it; it is no place for you.” ”

“ I like the boy. She professed to love him, and, to own the truth, I loathe all treachery and deceit. If I had done a murder, I would own it. A lie doubles every crime. But I took heart; we are all selfish, we men; of the two sisters one was all innocence and good faith; and she was the one I had chosen.”
At these words Josephine rose, like a statue moving, and took a phial from her bosom and poured the contents into the glass. ”

“ Josephine cut him short. “Amongst honorable men and women all oaths are alike sacred: and Heaven’s eye is in a magistrate’s room as in a church. A daughter of Beaurepaire gave her hand to him, and called herself his wife. Therefore, she was his wife: and is his widow. She owes him everything; the house you are all living in among the rest. She ought to be proud of her brief connection with that pure, heroic spirit, and, when she is so little noble as to disown him, then say that gratitude and justice have no longer a place among mankind.” ”

“ The doctor selected the tapestried chamber for him as being most airy. Then he ordered the women out, and with Dard’s help undressed the still insensible patient.
Josephine sat down on the stairs in gloomy silence, her eyes on the ground, like one waiting for her deathblow.
Rose, sick at heart, sat silent too at some distance. At last she said faintly, “Have we done well?”
“I don’t know,” said Josephine doggedly. Her eyes never left the ground.
“We could not let him die for want of care.”
“He will not thank us. Better for him to die than live. Better for me.” ”

“ I could make that man happy; he has nobody to write to even, when he is away—poor fellow!”
“I shall lose all patience,” cried Rose; “you are at your old trick, thinking of everybody but yourself: I let you do it in trifles, but I love you too well to permit it when the happiness of your whole life is at stake. I must be satisfied on one point, or else this marriage shall never take place: just answer me this; if Camille Dujardin stood on one side, and Monsieur Raynal on the other, and both asked your hand, which would you take?” ”

“ She looked him in the face. “I can read your eyes, and I know you love me. I think you mean to kill me. I have heard men kill the thing they love.”
“Of course they do; sooner than another should have it, they kill it—they kill it.”
“God has not made them patient like us women. Poor Camille!”
“Patience dies when hope dies. Come, Madame Raynal, say a prayer, for you are going to die.”
“God bless you, Camille!” said the poor girl, putting her hands together in her last prayer. At this sweet touch of affection, Camille hung his head, and sobbed. ”

“ Edouard stood looking on at some distance in amazement, mingled with disgust.
“Ugh!” said he, when she rejoined him, “how could you kiss that nasty little brat?”
“Dear Edouard, don’t speak so of a poor little innocent. Who would pity them if we women did not? It had lovely eyes.”
“Like saucers.”
“Yes.”
“It is no compliment when you are affectionate to anybody; you overflow with benevolence on all creation, like the rose which sheds its perfume on the first-comer.”
“If he is not going to be jealous of me next,” whined Josephine. ”

“ Ah! he will never want a father whilst I live; and from this moment he is under my care. I will go to see him; I will bring you news, and all in good time; I will place him where you shall visit him without imprudence; but, for the present, trust a wiser head than yours or Rose’s; and give me your sacred promise not to go to Frejus.”
Weighed down by his good-sense and kindness, Josephine resisted no longer in words. She just lifted her hands in despair and began to cry. It was so piteous, Aubertin was ready to yield in turn, and consent to any imprudence, when he met with an unexpected ally. ”

“ Camille stood transfixed; a fierce, guilty joy throbbed in his heart. His rival had quarrelled with him, had insulted him, had challenged him. It was not his fault. The sun shone bright now upon his cold despair. An hour ago life offered nothing. A few hours more, and then joy beyond expression, or an end of all. Death or Josephine! Then he remembered that this very Josephine wished to marry him to Rose. Then he remembered Raynal had saved his life. Cold chills crossed his breaking heart. Of all that could happen to him death alone seemed a blessing without alloy. ”

“ Take my word for it, the old are more knowing than the young, let them be as sharp as you like: the old have seen everything. WE have only heard talk of the most part, with here and there a glimpse. To know life to the bottom you must live it out, from the soup to the dessert; and that is what the doctor has done, and now he is coming here. And Mademoiselle Rose will go telling him everything; and if she tells him half what she has seen, your secret will be no secret to that old man.”
“My secret!” gasped Josephine, turning pale.
“Don’t look so, madame: don’t be frightened at poor Jacintha. ”

“ I am the only sinner: that sweet angel is the only sufferer. Is this the justice of Heaven? Doctor, my remorse is great. No one knows what I feel when I look at my work. Edouard thinks I love her so much better than I do him. He is wrong: it is not love only, it is pity: it is remorse for the sorrow I have brought on her, and the wrong I have done poor Raynal.”
The high-spirited girl was greatly agitated: and Aubertin, though he did not acquit her of all blame, soothed her, and made excuses for her. ”

“ Josephine turned pale, and lifted her hands in surprise and dismay.
“Depend on it, Josephine, we are wrong,” said Rose, firmly: “these wretches will not stand our nonsense above a certain time: they are not such fools. We are mismanaging: one gone, the other going; both losing faith in us.”
Josephine’s color returned to her cheek, and then mounted high. Presently she smiled, a smile full of conscious power and furtive complacency, and said quietly, “He will not go.”
Rose was pleased, but not surprised, to hear her sister speak so confidently, for she knew her power over Camille. ”

“ Tell me that he never really loved me, and I will believe you; but not that he is a traitor. Let me weep over my past love, not blush for it.”
“Past? You love him to-day as you did three years ago.”
“No,” said Josephine, “no; I love no one. I never shall love any one again.”
“But him. It is that love which turns your heart against others. Oh, yes, you love him, dearest, or why should you fancy our secret benefactor COULD be that Camille?” ”

“ You are alone in the world; your father is dead; your mother has but you to lean on. After all, I am your neighbor, and neighbors should be friends. And I am your debtor; I owe you more than you could ever owe me; for ever since I came into this neighborhood I have been happy. No man was ever so happy as I, ever since one day I was walking, and met for the first time an angel. I don’t say it was you, Mademoiselle Rose. It might be Mademoiselle Josephine. ”