Baron Trigault's Vengeance [115]
"You come at a good time!"
But M. de Coralth was too much exasperated to notice Wilkie's strange greeting. Seizing him roughly by the arm, and closing the door with a kick, he dragged Wilkie back into the little drawing- room. "Yes, it's I," he said, curtly. "It's I--come to inquire if you have gone mad?"
"Viscount!"
"I can find no other explanation of your conduct! What! You choose Madame d'Argeles's reception day, and an hour when there are fifty guests in her drawing-room to present yourself!"
"Ah, well! it wasn't from choice. I had been there twice before, and had the doors shut in my face."
"You ought to have gone back ten times, a hundred times, a thousand times, rather than have accomplished such an idiotic prank as this."
"Excuse me."
"What did I recommend? Prudence, calmness and moderation, persuasive gentleness, sentiments of the loftiest nature, tenderness, a shower of tears----"
"Possibly, but----"
"But instead of that, you fall upon this woman like a thunderbolt, and set the whole household in the wildest commotion. What could you be thinking of, to make such an absurd and frightful scene? For you howled and shrieked like a street hawker, and we could hear you in the drawing-room. If all is not irretrievably lost, there must be a special Providence for the benefit of fools!"
In his dismay, Wilkie endeavored to falter some excuses, but he was only able to begin a few sentences which died away, uncompleted in his throat. The violence shown by M. de Coralth, who was usually as cold and as polished as marble, quieted his own wrath. Still toward the last he felt disposed to rebel against the insults that were being heaped upon him. "Do you know, viscount, that I begin to think this very strange," he exclaimed. "If any one else had led me into such a scrape, I should have called him to account in double-quick time."
M. de Coralth shrugged his shoulders with an air of contempt, and threateningly replied: "Understand, once for all, that you had better not attempt to bully me! Now, tell me what passed between your mother and yourself?"
"First I should like----"
"Dash it all! Do you suppose that I intend to remain here all night? Tell me what occurred, and be quick about it. And try to speak the truth."
It was one of M. Wilkie's greatest boasts that he had an indomitable will--an iron nature. But the viscount exercised powerful influence over him, and, to tell the truth, inspired him with a form of emotion which was nearly akin to fear. Moreover, a glimmer of reason had at last penetrated his befogged brain: he saw that M. de Coralth was right--that he had acted like a fool, and that, if he hoped to escape from the dangers that threatened him, he must take the advice of more experienced men than himself. So, ceasing his recriminations, he began to describe what he styled his explanation with Madame d'Argeles. All went well at first; for he dared not misrepresent the facts.
But when he came to the intervention of the man who had prevented him from striking his mother, he turned crimson, and rage again filled his heart. "I'm sorry I let myself get into such a mess!" he exclaimed. "You should have seen my condition. My shirt- collar was torn, and my cravat hung in tatters. He was much stronger than I--the contemptible scoundrel!--ah! if it hadn't been for that---- But I shall have my revenge. Yes, he shall learn that he can't trample a man under foot with impunity. To- morrow two of my friends will call upon him; and if he refuses to apologize or to give me satisfaction, I'll cane him."
It was evident enough that M. de Coralth had to exercise considerable constraint to listen to these fine projects. "I must warn you that you ought to speak in other terms of an honorable and honored gentleman," he interrupted, at last.
"Eh! what! You know him then?"
"Yes, Madame d'Argeles's defender is Baron Trigault."
M. Wilkie's heart bounded with joy, as he heard this name. "Ah! this is capital!" he exclaimed. "What! So it was Baron Trigault-- the noted
But M. de Coralth was too much exasperated to notice Wilkie's strange greeting. Seizing him roughly by the arm, and closing the door with a kick, he dragged Wilkie back into the little drawing- room. "Yes, it's I," he said, curtly. "It's I--come to inquire if you have gone mad?"
"Viscount!"
"I can find no other explanation of your conduct! What! You choose Madame d'Argeles's reception day, and an hour when there are fifty guests in her drawing-room to present yourself!"
"Ah, well! it wasn't from choice. I had been there twice before, and had the doors shut in my face."
"You ought to have gone back ten times, a hundred times, a thousand times, rather than have accomplished such an idiotic prank as this."
"Excuse me."
"What did I recommend? Prudence, calmness and moderation, persuasive gentleness, sentiments of the loftiest nature, tenderness, a shower of tears----"
"Possibly, but----"
"But instead of that, you fall upon this woman like a thunderbolt, and set the whole household in the wildest commotion. What could you be thinking of, to make such an absurd and frightful scene? For you howled and shrieked like a street hawker, and we could hear you in the drawing-room. If all is not irretrievably lost, there must be a special Providence for the benefit of fools!"
In his dismay, Wilkie endeavored to falter some excuses, but he was only able to begin a few sentences which died away, uncompleted in his throat. The violence shown by M. de Coralth, who was usually as cold and as polished as marble, quieted his own wrath. Still toward the last he felt disposed to rebel against the insults that were being heaped upon him. "Do you know, viscount, that I begin to think this very strange," he exclaimed. "If any one else had led me into such a scrape, I should have called him to account in double-quick time."
M. de Coralth shrugged his shoulders with an air of contempt, and threateningly replied: "Understand, once for all, that you had better not attempt to bully me! Now, tell me what passed between your mother and yourself?"
"First I should like----"
"Dash it all! Do you suppose that I intend to remain here all night? Tell me what occurred, and be quick about it. And try to speak the truth."
It was one of M. Wilkie's greatest boasts that he had an indomitable will--an iron nature. But the viscount exercised powerful influence over him, and, to tell the truth, inspired him with a form of emotion which was nearly akin to fear. Moreover, a glimmer of reason had at last penetrated his befogged brain: he saw that M. de Coralth was right--that he had acted like a fool, and that, if he hoped to escape from the dangers that threatened him, he must take the advice of more experienced men than himself. So, ceasing his recriminations, he began to describe what he styled his explanation with Madame d'Argeles. All went well at first; for he dared not misrepresent the facts.
But when he came to the intervention of the man who had prevented him from striking his mother, he turned crimson, and rage again filled his heart. "I'm sorry I let myself get into such a mess!" he exclaimed. "You should have seen my condition. My shirt- collar was torn, and my cravat hung in tatters. He was much stronger than I--the contemptible scoundrel!--ah! if it hadn't been for that---- But I shall have my revenge. Yes, he shall learn that he can't trample a man under foot with impunity. To- morrow two of my friends will call upon him; and if he refuses to apologize or to give me satisfaction, I'll cane him."
It was evident enough that M. de Coralth had to exercise considerable constraint to listen to these fine projects. "I must warn you that you ought to speak in other terms of an honorable and honored gentleman," he interrupted, at last.
"Eh! what! You know him then?"
"Yes, Madame d'Argeles's defender is Baron Trigault."
M. Wilkie's heart bounded with joy, as he heard this name. "Ah! this is capital!" he exclaimed. "What! So it was Baron Trigault-- the noted