Edouard said these words in such a low tone that no one but Jacques could have heard them; but he was listening closely, and before his brother had finished his sentence, he had thrown himself on his neck, and pressed him in his arms.
Edouard submitted to the embrace with very good grace; but the infernal moustaches still disturbed him; he did not feel at his ease, and he did not know whether he ought to rejoice or to be sorry that he had found his brother.
"I say, why didn't you tell me your name sooner?" said Jacques, after embracing Edouard again; "didn't you guess who I was?"
"Yes, but I wanted to be certain."
"And you--you seem to be rich and happy?"
"I--yes."
"You are married; and where is your wife? I shall be delighted to know her."
"My wife----"
Edouard paused; the thought of Adeline, of Madame Germeuil, the suspicions which the latter had conceived the night before, when she saw the face with moustaches; the brusque manners, and the more than careless garb of Jacques, which was in such striking contrast to his own, all this tormented the spirit of the young bridegroom, who, at the best weak and irresolute, tried in vain to harmonize his self-esteem and the sentiments which the sight of his brother awoke in him.
"What the devil are you thinking about?" asked Jacques, taking Edouard's arm.
"Oh! I was reflecting; it is late, and I must go back to Paris.
Important business demands my presence there."
Jacques made no reply, but his brow darkened, and he walked a few steps away from his brother.
"What are you doing now, Jacques?"
"Nothing," said Jacques, as he scrutinized Edouard with more attention.
"Nothing? Then what are your means of existence?"
"Up to this time I have never asked anyone for anything."
"However, you do not seem to be very well off."
"I am not, that is a fact!"
"What an idea, to wear such moustaches! You don't expect to see my wife, with those on your face, I fancy?"
"My moustaches will stay where they are; if your wife is a prude and the sight of me frightens her, never fear! she won't see me very often!"
"You misunderstand me, that isn't what I meant. But I must leave you; I am expected in Paris; I do not ask you to come with me now--indeed you are expecting to meet someone in this village, I believe."
"Yes, I am expecting a comrade, a _friend_."
Jacques emphasized the last word and cast a meaning glance at his brother.
"Well, I must leave you," said Edouard, after a moment's hesitation; "we shall meet again soon, I hope. Meanwhile, here, take this."
As he spoke, Edouard drew from his pocket his purse, which contained about ten louis, and offered it with a trembling hand to his brother; but Jacques proudly pushed Edouard's hand away, pulled his hat over his eyes, put his hand quickly to the collar of his coat, and seemed to contemplate baring his breast; but he checked himself and said to Edouard in a cold tone:
"Keep your money; I didn't come here to ask alms of you, and I do not propose to become an object of your compa.s.sion; I thought that I had found a brother, but I made a mistake. I do not seem to you worthy to be received into your house; my dress and my face frighten you; that is enough; adieu, you will see me no more."
Jacques cast an angry glance at his brother, and strode from the garden through the little barred gate, that had remained open.
Edouard, like all irresolute people, stood for a moment without moving, with his eyes fixed upon the gate through which his brother had left the garden. At last his natural feelings carried the day, he ran to the gate, went into the fields, and shouted at the top of his voice:
"Jacques, Brother Jacques!"
But it was too late; Jacques had disappeared, he was already far away, and his brother's shouts did not reach his ears.
Edouard returned sadly to the garden; he paused in the gateway, and looked out into the fields once more, and as he could see no one, decided at last to close the gate.
"Oh! he will come again," he said to himself; "he is a hot-headed fellow, who loses his temper in an instant. However, I didn't mean to insult him; I offered him money, because he seemed in great need of it, and I don't see why he took offence at that. I gave him to understand that his dress, his aspect, would be out of place in a salon. Was I so very wrong? Can I conscientiously present to my wife and my mother-in-law a man who looks like an escaped convict, at the best? It would be enough to make a man die of shame--and that too on the very morrow of my marriage! With the money I offered him he might have dressed decently; but no! he will not shave his moustaches! Faith, he may do as he pleases; I did what it was my duty to do."
Edouard strove to convince himself that he had not done wrong; he did not admit that his cold and constrained manner might well have humiliated his brother; but a secret voice arose in the depths of his heart and reproached him for his unkindness. Dissatisfied with himself and disturbed concerning the outcome of that adventure, Edouard returned to his cabriolet and drove away from the village, without giving the concierge any orders.
When he entered Paris, he was still uncertain as to what he should do.
At last he decided not to mention the encounter to his wife and his mother-in-law, thinking that it would be time enough to introduce them to his brother when he should call. When he arrived, his Adeline ran to meet him, scolded him fondly because he had been away so long, and asked him about his journey.
"It is all finished," said Edouard; "the deeds are pa.s.sed and the pretty house is ours now."
"And you had no unpleasant meetings?" asked Adeline with a smile.
"I--no--as you see."
"And you did not see that terrible face with the moustaches again?"
asked Madame Germeuil.
"No, I did not see him again."
"I am glad of it, for that man really looked like the leader of a band of robbers, and for my part I have no sort of desire to see him again, I a.s.sure you."
Edouard blushed; his brother had the appearance of a highwayman! That thought troubled him; he believed that they would guess his secret, and he dared not raise his eyes. But his wife's caresses dispelled his disquietude to some extent.
"What on earth is the matter, my dear?" asked Adeline; "you seem very pensive and preoccupied to-night."
"Nothing is the matter, my dear love; the bore of being away from you so long has been my only unhappiness."
"Dear Edouard! May you always think the same, for then you will never leave me.--By the way, when do we start for our country house?"
"Oh! in a week."
"A week! That is a very long while!"
"We must give the former owner time to pack up."
"Ah, yes! that is true, my dear."
Edouard did not tell the truth; another reason caused him to delay his return to Villeneuve-Saint-Georges. That reason he dared not communicate to Adeline; and after forty-eight hours of married life, after their mutual promises of absolute and reciprocal confidence, behold he already had a secret from his wife!