by Corry Shores
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[Dumas. The Wolf-Leader (Le meneur de loups), entry directory]
[The following is summary. Boldface, underlining, bracketed commentary, and section subdivisions are my own. Proofreading is incomplete, so please forgive my mistakes. Text is copied from online sources (see bibliography below).]
Summary of
Alexandre Dumas
Le meneur de loups
The Wolf-Leader
19
“Lequel était vivant, lequel était mort ?”
“The Dead and the Living”
Brief summary (collecting those below):
__(19.1)__ (Recall from section 18 that Thibault the sorcerer was temporarily in body of Raoul the Lord of Vauparfond and he just experienced his death.) Thibault awakes from his death experience in his hut, which is entirely in flames; “at first he thought it was a continuation of his nightmare, but then he heard cries of, ‘Death to the wizard! death to the sorcerer! death to the were-wolf!’ [« Mort au sorcier ! Mort au magicien ! Mort au loup-garou ! »] and he understood that some terrible attack was being made upon him.” Thibault runs out of his house with his boar spear. The attackers chase after him and shoot at him. From their dress he knows they are the Baron of Vez’s men, and he recalls the Baron’s promise of doing this (see section 13.2). “He was then beyond the pale of the law; he could be smoked out of his hole like a fox; he could be shot down like a buck.” __(19.2)__ He escapes and “sat down at the foot of a tree and buried his head in his hands. The events of the last forty-eight hours had succeeded each other with such rapidity, that there was no lack of matter to serve as subjects of reflection to the shoe-maker.” Thibault decides he should go see if Baron Raoul is really dead like how Thibault experienced it. Just then his pack of wolves gather around him. They head to town, but are seen: “The huntsmen of the Lord of Vez, who were poking up the remaining embers of the ruined hut, saw a man pass, as in a vision, running at the head of a dozen or more wolves. They crossed themselves, and became more convinced than ever that Thibault was a wizard [sorcier]. And anybody else who had seen Thibault, flying along as swiftly as his swiftest wolf, and covering the ground between Oigny and Puiseux in less than a quarter of an hour, would certainly have thought so too.” When he gets to town, he tells the wolves not to follow but rather to amuse themselves, including killing men. He goes to the Priest’s, making “a circuit so as to avoid passing in front of the Cross.” In the window he sees a corpse. He goes in to see that indeed it is Raoul. “At the first glance you might have thought he only slept; but on gazing longer you recognised in that immovable calm something more profound than sleep. The presence of one who carries a sickle for sceptre, and wears a shroud for mantle was unmistakeable, and you knew King Death was there.” A woman in black enters, all while another woman keeps lookout. It is Raoul’s illicit lover, the Countess of Mont-Gobert. She cries and asks the body to tell her his assassin so she can avenge his death. She then thinks she hears someone say, “I will!” and the curtain shakes, and she jumps backward. But when she looks behind the curtain, no one is there. She cuts herself a lock of Raoul’s hair. As she was leaving, the Priest enters and asks who she is. She replies, “I am Grief,” and the Priest lets her pass. __(19.3)__ The Countess leaves by foot. Down the road Thibault hides behind a willow tree, then jumps out in front of them. He says he is the one who said, “I will [tell the assassin's name and help avenge Raoul’s death]” just before. He says he will help her avenge Raoul’s death. They need to discuss this in secret. Thibault reveals that he knows Raoul’s secret entrance method: “I can go through the breach in the park wall: Mademoiselle Lisette can wait for me in the hut where Monsieur Raoul used to leave his horse, she can take me up the winding-stair and into your room. If you should be in your dressing-room, I will wait for you, as Monsieur Raoul waited the night before last” (see sections 16.2 and 16.3). The women are alarmed by this and ask how he knows it. Thibault says he will explain it later. Thibault disappears. Then later at the castle, Lisette brings Thibault to the Countess’ room, but she is disturbed by Thibault’s knowledge of how to get there: “he knew his way up as well as I did! And oh! Madame! if you knew what he said to me! That man is the devil [le démon], Madame, I feel sure!” When he presents himself to the Countess, “He gave the impression of a man who had once and for all made up his mind, but it was also easy to see that it was for no good purpose; a Satanic smile played about his mouth, and there was a demoniacal light in his eyes [la bouche était contractée par un rire satanique, l’œil brillait d’une lueur infernale]. He had made no attempt to hide his red hairs, but had left them defiantly uncovered, and they hung over his forehead like a plume of flame.” Thibault explains that the reason he knows the way is because he was here the night before. Thibault describes the events in perfect detail. In the middle of his recounting, the Countess says: “‘Lisette was right, you can be nothing less than the devil [le démon],’ said the Countess with a sinister laugh, ‘and I think we shall be able to do business together.... Finish your account.’ ” Thibault continues the narration all the way to Raoul’s death. To pay for Thibault’s services, she hand him pearls worth fifty thousand livres. He says it will cost more, but he will name the price when they meet again the next night here at her room. Thibault leaves. “The Countess went and replaced the pearls in her dressing case; lifted up a false bottom, and drew from underneath it a small bottle containing an opal-coloured liquid, and a little dagger with a jewelled handle and case, and a blade inlaid with gold. She hid both beneath her pillow, knelt at her prie-dieu, and, her prayer finished, threw herself dressed on to her bed....”]
[Thibault’s Persecution and Escape]
[Thibault’s Visit to Dead Raoul]
[The Countess’ Deal with Thibault]
Summary
[Thibault’s Persecution and Escape]
[(Recall from section 18 that Thibault the sorcerer was temporarily in body of Raoul the Lord of Vauparfond and he just experienced his death.) Thibault awakes from his death experience in his hut, which is entirely in flames; “at first he thought it was a continuation of his nightmare, but then he heard cries of, ‘Death to the wizard! death to the sorcerer! death to the were-wolf!’ [« Mort au sorcier ! Mort au magicien ! Mort au loup-garou ! »] and he understood that some terrible attack was being made upon him.” Thibault runs out of his house with his boar spear. The attackers chase after him and shoot at him. From their dress he knows they are the Baron of Vez’s men, and he recalls the Baron’s promise of doing this (see section 13.2). “He was then beyond the pale of the law; he could be smoked out of his hole like a fox; he could be shot down like a buck.”]
[ditto]
Au même moment où l’âme frémissante du jeune gentilhomme s’envolait, Thibault, comme s’il sortait d’un sommeil agité par des rêves terribles, se soulevait sur son lit.
Il était tout entouré de flammes.
Le feu était aux quatre coins de sa cabane.
Il crut d’abord que c’était la continuation de son cauchemar.
Mais il entendit si distinctement crier : « Mort au sorcier ! Mort au magicien ! Mort au loup-garou ! » qu’il comprit qu’il se passait quelque chose de terrible contre lui.
Puis les flammes approchaient, gagnaient son lit ; il en sentait la chaleur.
Quelques secondes encore, il allait se trouver au centre d’un vaste bûcher.
Un instant d’hésitation, et toute retraite allait lui être fermée ; il ne pourrait plus fuir.
Thibault bondit à bas de sa couchette, s’empara d’un épieu, et s’élança par la porte de derrière de sa cabane.
Au moment où on le vit passer au milieu des flammes et déboucher à travers la fumée, les cris : « À mort ! À mort ! » redoublèrent.
Trois ou quatre coups de feu partirent.
Ces trois ou quatre coups de feu étaient bien destinés à Thibault.
Il avait entendu siffler les balles.
Les hommes qui avaient tiré sur lui étaient à la livrée du grand veneur.
Thibault se souvint de la menace que, deux jours auparavant, lui avait faite le baron de Vez.
Il était donc hors la loi.
On pouvait l’enfumer comme un renard dans son terrier ; on pouvait tirer sur lui comme sur une bête fauve.
Par bonheur pour Thibault, aucune balle ne l’atteignit.
La flamme de sa chaumière ne formait qu’un cercle étroit de lumière ; il fut bientôt hors de ce cercle.
Alors il se trouva dans l’obscurité des grands bois, et, sans les clameurs de la valetaille qui brûlait sa maison, le silence eût, à cette heure, été égal à l’obscurité.
(243-244)
AT the same moment that the trembling soul of the young Baron passed away, Thibault, awaking as if from an agitated sleep full of terrible dreams, sat up in his bed. He was surrounded by fire, every corner of his hut was in flames; at first he thought it was a continuation of his nightmare, but then he heard cries of, “Death to the wizard! death to the sorcerer! death to the were-wolf!” [« Mort au sorcier ! Mort au magicien ! Mort au loup-garou ! »] and he understood that some terrible attack was being made upon him.
The flames came nearer, they reached the bed, he felt their heat upon him; a few seconds more and he would be burned alive in the midst of the flaming pile. Thibault leaped from his bed, seized his boar-spear, and dashed out of the back door of his hut. No sooner did his enemies see him rush through the fire and emerge from the smoke than their cries of “death to him!” “death!” were redoubled. One or two shots were fired at him; Thibault heard the bullets whizz past; those who shot at him wore the livery of the Grand Master, and Thibault recalled the menace of the lord of Vez, uttered against him a few days before.
He was then beyond the pale of the law; he could be smoked out of his hole like a fox; he could be shot down like a buck. Luckily for Thibault, not one of the bullets struck him, and as the circle of fire made by the burning hut was not a large one, he was soon safely beyond it, and once again in shelter of the vast and gloomy forest, where, had it not been for the cries of the menials who were burning down his house, the silence would have been as complete as the darkness.
(90-91)
[Thibault’s Visit to Dead Raoul]
[He escapes and “sat down at the foot of a tree and buried his head in his hands. The events of the last forty-eight hours had succeeded each other with such rapidity, that there was no lack of matter to serve as subjects of reflection to the shoe-maker.” Thibault decides he should go see if Baron Raoul is really dead like how Thibault experienced it. Just then his pack of wolves gather around him. They head to town, but are seen: “The huntsmen of the Lord of Vez, who were poking up the remaining embers of the ruined hut, saw a man pass, as in a vision, running at the head of a dozen or more wolves. They crossed themselves, and became more convinced than ever that Thibault was a wizard [sorcier]. And anybody else who had seen Thibault, flying along as swiftly as his swiftest wolf, and covering the ground between Oigny and Puiseux in less than a quarter of an hour, would certainly have thought so too.” When he gets to town, he tells the wolves not to follow but rather to amuse themselves, including killing men. He goes to the Priest’s, making “a circuit so as to avoid passing in front of the Cross.” In the window he sees a corpse. He goes in to see that indeed it is Raoul. “At the first glance you might have thought he only slept; but on gazing longer you recognised in that immovable calm something more profound than sleep. The presence of one who carries a sickle for sceptre, and wears a shroud for mantle was unmistakeable, and you knew King Death was there.” A woman in black enters, all while another woman keeps lookout. It is Raoul’s illicit lover, the Countess of Mont-Gobert. She cries and asks the body to tell her his assassin so she can avenge his death. She then thinks she hears someone say, “I will!” and the curtain shakes, and she jumps backward. But when she looks behind the curtain, no one is there. She cuts herself a lock of Raoul’s hair. As she was leaving, the Priest enters and asks who she is. She replies, “I am Grief,” and the Priest lets her pass.]
[ditto]
Il s’assit au pied d’un arbre et laissa tomber sa tête entre ses mains.
Les événements s’étaient, depuis quarante-huit heures écoulés avec une assez grande rapidité pour que les sujets de réflexion ne manquassent pas au sabotier.
Seulement, ces dernières vingt-quatre heures, où il avait vécu d’une autre vie que la sienne, lui semblaient un rêve.
Il n’aurait point osé jurer que toute cette histoire du baron Raoul, de la comtesse Jane et du seigneur de Mont-Gobert fût vraie.
Il releva la tête en entendant tinter l’heure à l’église d’Oigny.
C’étaient dix heures qui sonnaient.
Dix heures !
À neuf heures et demie, il était encore couché agonisant, sous la forme du baron Raoul, dans la chambre du curé de Puiseux.
– Ah ! pardieu ! dit-il, il faut que j’en aie le cœur net ! Il y a une lieue à peine d’ici à Puiseux : en une demi-heure j’y serai ; je veux m’assurer si le baron Raoul est vraiment bien mort.
Un lugubre hurlement répondit à cette question que Thibault se faisait à lui-même.
Il regarda autour de lui.
Ses fidèles gardes du corps étaient revenus.
Le meneur de loups avait retrouvé sa meute.
– Allons ! loups, mes seuls amis, allons ! dit-il, en route !
Et il piqua avec eux à travers bois, dans la direction de Puiseux. Les valets du seigneur Jean, qui remuaient les derniers restes de la cabane en flammes, virent passer comme une vision un homme qui courait à la tête d’une douzaine de loups.
Ils se signèrent.
Plus que jamais ils furent convaincus que Thibault était sorcier.
Tout le monde l’eût cru comme les valets du seigneur Jean, surtout en voyant Thibault, aussi rapide que le plus rapide de ses compagnons, faire cette lieue qui sépare Oigny de Puiseux en moins d’un quart d’heure. Arrivé aux premières maisons du village, il s’arrêta.
– Amis loups, dit-il, je n’ai plus besoin de vous cette nuit ; au contraire, je tiens à être seul. Amusez-vous avec les étables du voisinage ; je vous donne carte blanche. Et, si vous trouvez sur votre route quelques-uns de ces animaux à deux pieds qu’on appelle des hommes, amis loups, oubliez qu’ils prétendent être faits à l’image du Créateur, et ne vous en privez pas.
Les loups s’élancèrent dans toutes les directions en hurlant de joie.
Thibault continua son chemin.
Il entra dans le village.
La maison du curé touchait à l’église.
Thibault fit un détour pour ne point passer devant la croix.
Il arriva au presbytère.
À travers la vitre, il regarda et vit un cierge allumé près du lit.
Un drap était étendu sur le lit, et sous ce drap, se dessinait une forme humaine accusant la rigidité cadavérique.
La maison paraissait vide.
Sans doute le curé était allé faire sa déclaration de décès chez le maire du village.
Thibault entra. Il appela le curé. Personne ne répondit.
Thibault marcha droit au lit.
C’était bien un cadavre qui était couché sous le drap.
Il leva le drap. C’était bien le seigneur Raoul.
Il avait cette beauté calme et fatale que donne l’éternité.
Ses traits, de son vivant un peu féminins pour un homme, avaient acquis la sombre grandeur du trépas.
À la première vue, on eût pu croire qu’il dormait ; mais, avec plus d’attention, on reconnaissait dans son immobilité quelque chose de plus profond que le sommeil.
On reconnaissait la reine qui a une faux pour sceptre, un linceul pour manteau impérial.
On reconnaissait la Mort.
Thibault avait laissé la porte ouverte.
Il lui sembla entendre un léger bruit de pas.
Il se rangea derrière le rideau de serge verte qui retombait au fond de l’alcôve, devant une porte qui, en cas de surprise, lui offrait une retraite.
Une femme vêtue de noir, couverte d’un voile noir, s’arrêta avec hésitation devant la porte.
Une autre tête passa près de la sienne et plongea son regard dans l’intérieur de la chambre.
– Je crois que madame peut entrer ; il n’y a personne, et, d’ailleurs, moi, je veillerai.
La femme vêtue de noir entra, s’avança lentement vers le lit, s’arrêta pour essuyer la sueur qui coulait sur son front, puis, d’une main résolue, elle leva le drap que Thibault avait rejeté sur le visage du mort.
Thibault reconnut la comtesse.
– Hélas ! dit-elle, on ne m’avait pas trompée !
Puis elle se laissa tomber à genoux et pria, tout en pleurant à sanglots.
Sa prière finie, elle se releva, baisa le front pâle du mort et les lèvres violettes de la blessure par où l’âme s’était envolée.
– Ô mon bien-aimé Raoul ! murmura-t-elle, qui me nommera ton meurtrier ? Qui me secondera dans ma vengeance ?
La comtesse avait à peine achevé ces mots qu’elle poussa un cri et fit un bond en arrière. Il lui semblait qu’une voix avait répondu :
– Moi !
Et les rideaux de serge verte avaient tremblé.
Mais ce n’était point un cœur faible que la comtesse. Elle prit le cierge qui brûlait à la tête du lit et plongea son regard entre le rideau de serge verte et la muraille. Il n’y avait personne.
Elle vit une porte fermée, voilà tout.
Elle remit le cierge à sa place, prit dans un petit portefeuille une paire de ciseaux d’or, coupa une boucle de cheveux au cadavre, mit cette boucle de cheveux dans un sachet de velours noir pendu sur son cœur, baisa encore une fois le front du cadavre, lui rejeta son linceul sur la tête et sortit.
Au seuil de la porte, elle rencontra le prêtre et fit un pas en arrière en épaississant son voile.
– Qui êtes-vous ? demanda le prêtre.
– La douleur, répondit-elle.
Le prêtre se rangea et la laissa passer.
(244-248)
He sat down at the foot of a tree and buried his head in his hands. The events of the last forty-eight hours had succeeded each other with such rapidity, that there was no lack of matter to serve as subjects of reflection to the shoe-maker.
The twenty-four hours, during which he had lived another existence than his own, seemed to him like a dream, so much so, that he would not have dared to take his oath that all this recent affair between the Baron, and the Countess Jane, and the Comte de Mont-Gobert had really taken place. The church clock of Oigny struck ten, and he lifted his head. Ten o’clock! and only half-an-hour before he had been still in the body of the Baron Raoul, as he lay dying in the house of the Curé of Puiseux.
“Ah!” he exclaimed “I must find out for certain what has happened! It is not quite three miles to Puiseux and I shall be there in half-an-hour; I should like to ascertain if the Baron is really dead.” A melancholy howl made answer to his words; he looked round; his faithful body-guards were back again; he had his pack about him once more.
“Come, wolves! come, my only friends!” he cried, “let us be off!” And he started with them across the forest in the direction of Puiseux. The huntsmen of the Lord of Vez, who were poking up the remaining embers of the ruined hut, saw a man pass, as in a vision, running at the head of a dozen or more wolves. They crossed themselves, and became more convinced than ever that Thibault was a wizard [sorcier]. And anybody else who had seen Thibault, flying along as swiftly as his swiftest wolf, and covering the ground between Oigny and Puiseux in less than a quarter of an hour, would certainly have thought so too.
He stopped at the entrance to the village, and turning to his wolves, he said:
“Friend wolves, I have no further need of you to-night, and indeed, I wish to be alone. Amuse yourselves with the stables in the neighbourhood, I give you leave to do just what you like; and if you chance to come across one of those two-footed animals, called men, forget, friend wolves, that they claim to be made in the image of their Creator, and never fear to satisfy your appetite.” Whereupon the wolves rushed off in different directions, uttering howls of joy, while Thibault went on into the village. The Curé’s house adjoined the church, and Thibault made a circuit so as to avoid passing in front of the Cross. When he reached the presbytery, he looked in through one of the windows, and there he saw a bed with a lighted wax candle beside it; and over the bed itself was spread a sheet, and beneath the sheet could be seen the outlines of a figure lying rigid in death. There appeared to be no one in the house; the priest had no doubt gone to give notice of the death to the village authorities. Thibault went inside, and called the priest, but no one answered. He walked up to the bed, there could be no mistake about the body under the sheet being that of a dead man; he lifted the sheet, there could be no mistaking that the dead body was that of Raoul de Vauparfond. On his face lay the still, unearthly beauty which is born of eternity. His features, which in life had been somewhat too feminine for those of a man, had now assumed the sombre grandeur of death. At the first glance you might have thought he only slept; but on gazing longer you recognised in that immovable calm something more profound than sleep. The presence of one who carries a sickle for sceptre, and wears a shroud for mantle was unmistakeable, and you knew King Death was there.
Thibault had left the door open, and he heard the sound of light footsteps approaching; at the back of the alcove hung a serge curtain, which masked a door by which he could retreat, if necessary, and he now went and placed himself behind it. A woman dressed in black, and covered with a black veil, paused in some hesitation at the door. The head of another woman passed in front of her’s and looked carefully round the room.
“I think it is safe for Madame to go in; I see no one about, and besides, I will keep watch.”
The woman in black went in, walked slowly towards the bed, stopped a moment to wipe the perspiration from her forehead, then, without further hesitation, lifted the sheet which Thibault had thrown back over the face of the dead man; Thibault then saw that it was the Countess.
“Alas!” she said, “what they told me was true!”
Then she fell on her knees, praying and sobbing. Her prayer being ended, she rose again, kissed the pale forehead of the dead, and the blue marks of the wound through which the soul had fled.
“O my well-beloved, my Raoul;” she murmured, “who will tell me the name of your murderer? who will help me to avenge your death?” As the Countess finished speaking, she gave a cry and started back; she seemed to hear a voice that answered, “I will!” and something had shaken the green serge curtain.
The Countess however was no chicken-hearted woman; she took the candle that was burning at the head of the bed and went and looked behind the curtain; but no creature was to be seen, a closed door was all that met her eye. She put back the candle, took a pair of gold scissors from a little pocket case, cut off a curl of the dead man’s hair, placed the curl in a black velvet sachet which hung over her heart, gave one last kiss to her dead lover, laid the sheet over his face, and left the house. Just as she was crossing the threshold, she met the priest, and drawing back, drew her veil more closely over her face.
“Who are you?” asked the priest.
“I am Grief,” she answered, and the priest made way for her to pass.
(91-92)
[The Countess’ Deal with Thibault]
[The Countess leaves by foot. Down the road Thibault hides behind a willow tree, then jumps out in front of them. He says he is the one who said, “I will [tell the assassin's name and help avenge Raoul’s death]” just before. He says he will help her avenge Raoul’s death. They need to discuss this in secret. Thibault reveals that he knows Raoul’s secret entrance method: “I can go through the breach in the park wall: Mademoiselle Lisette can wait for me in the hut where Monsieur Raoul used to leave his horse, she can take me up the winding-stair and into your room. If you should be in your dressing-room, I will wait for you, as Monsieur Raoul waited the night before last” (see sections 16.2 and 16.3). The women are alarmed by this and ask how he knows it. Thibault says he will explain it later. Thibault disappears. Then later at the castle, Lisette brings Thibault to the Countess’ room, but she is disturbed by Thibault’s knowledge of how to get there: “he knew his way up as well as I did! And oh! Madame! if you knew what he said to me! That man is the devil [le démon], Madame, I feel sure!” When he presents himself to the Countess, “He gave the impression of a man who had once and for all made up his mind, but it was also easy to see that it was for no good purpose; a Satanic smile played about his mouth, and there was a demoniacal light in his eyes [la bouche était contractée par un rire satanique, l’œil brillait d’une lueur infernale]. He had made no attempt to hide his red hairs, but had left them defiantly uncovered, and they hung over his forehead like a plume of flame.” Thibault explains that the reason he knows the way is because he was here the night before. Thibault describes the events in perfect detail. In the middle of his recounting, the Countess says: “‘Lisette was right, you can be nothing less than the devil [le démon],’ said the Countess with a sinister laugh, ‘and I think we shall be able to do business together.... Finish your account.’ ” Thibault continues the narration all the way to Raoul’s death. To pay for Thibault’s services, she hand him pearls worth fifty thousand livres. He says it will cost more, but he will name the price when they meet again the next night here at her room. Thibault leaves. “The Countess went and replaced the pearls in her dressing case; lifted up a false bottom, and drew from underneath it a small bottle containing an opal-coloured liquid, and a little dagger with a jewelled handle and case, and a blade inlaid with gold. She hid both beneath her pillow, knelt at her prie-dieu, and, her prayer finished, threw herself dressed on to her bed....”]
[ditto]
La comtesse et sa suivante étaient venues à pied.
Elles s’en retournèrent à pied.
Il n’y avait qu’un quart de lieue de Puiseux à Mont-Gobert.
À moitié route à peu près, un homme se détacha du tronc d’un saule derrière lequel il était caché et barra le passage aux deux femmes.
Lisette jeta un cri.
Mais, sans manifester aucune crainte, la comtesse s’avança vers cet homme.
– Qui êtes-vous ? demanda-t-elle.
– Celui qui vous a répondu : Moi ! tout à l’heure, quand vous avez demandé qui vous dénoncerait le meurtrier.
– Vous pouvez m’aider à me venger de lui ?
– Quand vous voudrez.
– Tout de suite ?
– Nous sommes mal ici.
– Où serions-nous mieux ?
– Dans votre chambre, par exemple.
– Nous ne pouvons rentrer ensemble.
– Non ; mais je puis passer par la brèche ; mademoiselle Lisette peut m’attendre dans la fabrique où M. Raoul enfermait son cheval ; elle peut me conduire par l’escalier tournant et m’ouvrir votre chambre. Si vous êtes dans votre cabinet de toilette, je vous attendrai, comme avant-hier a fait M. Raoul.
Les deux femmes frissonnèrent de la tête aux pieds.
– Qui êtes-vous pour connaître tous ces détails ? demanda la comtesse.
– Je vous le dirai quand il sera temps que je vous le dise.
La comtesse hésita un instant.
Mais, prenant sa résolution :
– C’est bien, dit-elle, passez par la brèche ; Lisette vous attendra dans l’écurie.
– Oh ! madame, s’écria la chambrière, je n’oserai jamais aller chercher cet homme !
– J’irai, moi, dit la comtesse.
– À la bonne heure ! dit Thibault, voilà une femme !
Et, se laissant glisser dans une espèce de ravin qui bordait la route, il disparut.
Lisette pensa s’évanouir.
– Appuyez-vous sur moi, mademoiselle, dit la comtesse, et marchons ; j’ai hâte de savoir ce que cet homme a à me dire.
Les deux femmes rentrèrent par la ferme.
Personne ne les avait vues sortir, personne ne les vit rentrer.
La comtesse regagna sa chambre, où elle attendit que Lisette lui amenât l’inconnu.
Dix minutes après, Lisette entra très pâle.
– Ah ! madame, dit-elle, ce n’était pas la peine de l’aller chercher.
– Pourquoi cela ? demanda la comtesse.
– Parce qu’il connaît le chemin aussi bien que moi ! Oh ! si madame savait ce qu’il m’a dit ! À coup sûr, madame, cet homme, c’est le démon !
– Faites-le entrer, dit la comtesse.
– Le voici ! dit Thibault.
– C’est bien, dit la comtesse à Lisette ; laissez-nous, mademoiselle.
Lisette se retira. La comtesse resta seule avec Thibault. L’aspect de Thibault n’avait rien de rassurant. On sentait dans l’homme la fermeté d’une résolution prise, et il était facile de voir que la résolution était mauvaise : la bouche était contractée par un rire satanique, l’œil brillait d’une lueur infernale.
Au lieu de cacher ses cheveux rouges, Thibault, cette fois, les avait étalés complaisamment.
Ils retombaient sur son front comme un panache de flamme.
Et cependant la comtesse fixa sans pâlir son regard sur Thibault.
– Cette fille disait que vous connaissiez le chemin de ma chambre ; y êtes-vous déjà venu ?
– Oui, madame, une fois.
– Quand cela ?
– Avant-hier.
– À quelle heure ?
– De dix heures et demie à minuit et demi.
La comtesse regarda Thibault en face.
– Ce n’est pas vrai ! dit-elle.
– Voulez-vous que je vous dise ce qui s’y est passé ?
– À l’heure que vous indiquez ?
– À l’heure que j’indique.
– Dites, fit laconiquement la comtesse.
Thibault fut aussi laconique que celle qui l’interrogeait.
– M. Raoul est entré par cette porte, dit-il en montrant celle du corridor, et Lisette l’a laissé seul. Vous êtes entrée par celle-ci, continua-t-il en montrant la porte du cabinet de toilette, et vous l’avez trouvé à genoux. Vous aviez les cheveux dénoués et retenus par trois épingles de diamant, une robe de chambre de taffetas rose garnie de guipure, des bas de soie roses, des mules de drap d’argent et un fil de perles autour du cou.
– La toilette est parfaitement exacte, dit la comtesse ; continuez.
– Vous avez cherché trois querelles à M. Raoul : la première, sur ce qu’il s’arrêtait dans les corridors à embrasser votre femme de chambre ; la seconde, sur ce qu’il avait été rencontré à minuit sur la route d’Erneville à Villers-Cotterêts ; la troisième, sur ce qu’au bal du château, où vous n’étiez pas, il avait dansé quatre contredanses avec madame de Bonneuil.
– Continuez.
– À chacune de ces querelles, votre amant vous a donné des raisons, bonnes ou mauvaises : vous les avez trouvées bonnes puisque vous lui pardonniez quand Lisette est entrée tout effarée en criant à votre amant de fuir, attendu que votre mari venait de rentrer.
– Allons, vous êtes véritablement le démon, comme disait Lisette, fit la comtesse avec un sinistre éclat de rire, et je vois que nous pourrons faire des affaires ensemble… Achevez.
– Alors, vous et votre femme de chambre, avez poussé M. Raoul, qui se défendait, dans le cabinet de toilette ; Lisette lui a fait franchir le corridor, deux ou trois chambres, descendre un escalier tournant qui dessert l’aile du château opposée à celle par laquelle il était entré. Au bas de l’escalier, les fugitifs ont trouvé la porte fermée ; alors ils se sont réfugiés dans une espèce d’office ; Lisette a ouvert la fenêtre, qui n’était qu’à sept ou huit pieds de terre : M. Raoul a sauté par cette fenêtre, a couru à l’écurie, y a retrouvé son cheval, mais avec le jarret coupé ; alors, il a fait le serment, s’il rencontrait le comte, de lui couper le jarret comme le comte l’avait coupé au cheval, tenant pour lâche de mutiler sans nécessité un noble animal ; puis il a repris à pied le chemin de la brèche ; à la brèche, et en dehors de la muraille, il a trouvé le comte, qui l’attendait l’épée à la main. Le baron avait son couteau de chasse ; il l’a tiré du fourreau, et le combat a commencé.
– Le comte était seul ?
– Attendez… Le comte paraissait seul ; à la quatrième ou cinquième passe, le comte a reçu un coup de couteau de chasse dans l’épaule ; il est tombé sur un genou en criant : « À moi, Lestocq ! » Alors le baron s’est rappelé son serment et lui a coupé le jarret, comme le comte avait coupé le jarret à son cheval ; mais, au moment où il se relevait, Lestocq l’a frappé par-derrière ; le fer est entré sous l’omoplate et est sorti par la poitrine… je n’ai pas besoin de vous dire à quel endroit : vous avez baisé la plaie.
– Après ?
– Le comte et son piqueur sont revenus au château, laissant le baron sans secours ; il est revenu à lui, a appelé des paysans qui l’ont mis sur un brancard et emporté ; leur intention était de le conduire à Villers-Cotterêts ; mais à Puiseux il souffrait tant, qu’il n’a pu aller plus loin : ils l’ont déposé sur le lit où vous l’avez vu, et où il a rendu le dernier soupir à neuf heures et demie et une seconde du soir.
La comtesse se leva.
Elle alla sans rien dire à son écrin et prit le fil de perles qu’elle portait la veille au cou.
Elle le présenta à Thibault.
– Qu’est-ce que cela ? demanda celui-ci.
– Prenez, dit la comtesse, il vaut cinquante mille livres.
– Comptez-vous vous venger ? demanda Thibault.
– Oui, répondit la comtesse.
– La vengeance vaut plus cher que cela.
– Combien vaut-elle ?
– Attendez-moi la nuit prochaine, dit Thibault, et je vous le dirai.
– Où voulez-vous que je vous attende ? demanda la comtesse.
– Ici, dit Thibault avec un sourire de bête fauve.
– Je vous y attendrai, dit la comtesse.
– À demain, alors ?
– À demain.
Thibault sortit.
La comtesse alla remettre le fil de perles dans son écrin, souleva un double fond, en tira un flacon qui contenait une liqueur couleur d’opale, et un petit poignard au manche et au fourreau garnis de pierreries et à la lame damasquinée d’or.
Elle cacha le flacon et le poignard sous son oreiller, s’agenouilla devant son prie-Dieu, fit sa prière et revint se jeter tout habillée sur son lit…
(248-253)
The Countess and her attendant had come on foot, and were returning in the same manner, for the distance between Puiseux and Mont-Gobert was not much more than half-a-mile. When about half way along their road, a man, who had been hiding behind a willow tree, stepped forward and barred their further passage. Lisette screamed, but the Countess, without the least sign of fear, went up to the man, and asked: “Who are you?”
“The man who answered ‘I will’ just now, when you were asking who would denounce the murderer to you.”
“And you can help me to revenge myself on him?”
“Whenever you like.”
“At once?”
“We cannot talk here very well.”
“Where can we find a better place?”
“In your own room for one.”
“We must not enter the castle together.”
“No; but I can go through the breach in the park wall: Mademoiselle Lisette can wait for me in the hut where Monsieur Raoul used to leave his horse, she can take me up the winding-stair and into your room. If you should be in your dressing-room, I will wait for you, as Monsieur Raoul waited the night before last.”
The two women shuddered from head to foot.
“Who are you to know all these details?” asked the Countess.
“I will tell you when the time comes for me to tell you.”
The Countess hesitated a moment, then, recovering her resolution, she said:
“Very well then; come through the breach; Lisette will wait for you in the stable.”
“Oh! Madame,” cried the maid, “I shall never dare to go and bring that man to you!”
“I will go myself then,” said the Countess.
“Well said!” put in Thibault, “there spoke a woman worth calling one!” And so saying he slid down into a kind of ravine beside the road, and disappeared. Lisette very nearly fainted.
“Lean on me, Mademoiselle,” said the Countess, “and let us walk on; I am anxious to hear what this man has to say to me.”
The two women entered the castle by way of the farm; no one had seen them go out, and no one saw them return. On reaching her room, the Countess waited for Lisette to bring up the stranger. Ten minutes had elapsed when the maid hurried in with a pale face.
“Ah! Madame,” she said, “there was no need for me to go to fetch him.”
“What do you mean?” asked the Countess.
“Because he knew his way up as well as I did! And oh! Madame! if you knew what he said to me! That man is the devil [le démon], Madame, I feel sure!”
“Show him in,” said the Countess.
“I am here!” said Thibault.
“You can leave us now, my girl,” said the Countess to Lisette. The latter quitted the room and the Countess remained alone with Thibault. Thibault’s appearance was not one to inspire confidence. He gave the impression of a man who had once and for all made up his mind, but it was also easy to see that it was for no good purpose; a Satanic smile played about his mouth, and there was a demoniacal light in his eyes [la bouche était contractée par un rire satanique, l’œil brillait d’une lueur infernale]. He had made no attempt to hide his red hairs, but had left them defiantly uncovered, and they hung over his forehead like a plume of flame. But still the Countess looked him full in the face without changing colour.
“My maid says that you know the way to my room; have you ever been here before?”
“Yes, Madame, once.”
“And when was that?”
“The day before yesterday.”
“At what time?”
“From half-past ten till half-past twelve at night.”
The Countess looked steadily at him and said:
“That is not true.”
“Would you like me to tell you what took place?”
“During the time you mention?”
“During the time I mention.”
“Say on,” replied the Countess, laconically.
Thibault was equally laconic.
“Monsieur Raoul came in by that door,” he said, pointing to the one leading into the corridor, “and Lisette left him here alone. You entered the room by that one,” he continued, indicating the dressing-room door, “and you found him on his knees. Your hair was unbound, only fastened back by three diamond pins, you wore a pink silk dressing-gown, trimmed with lace, pink silk stockings, cloth-of-silver slippers and a chain of pearls round your neck.”
“You describe my dress exactly,” said the Countess, “continue.”
“You tried to pick a quarrel with Monsieur Raoul, first because he loitered in the corridors to kiss your waiting-maid; secondly, because someone had met him late at night on the road between Erneville and Villers-Cotterets; thirdly, because, at the ball given at the Castle, at which you yourself were not present, he danced four times with Madame de Bonneuil.”
“Continue.”
“In answer to your accusations, your lover made excuses for himself, some good, some bad; you, however, were satisfied with them for you were just forgiving him when Lisette rushed in full of alarm calling to Monsieur Raoul to escape, as your husband had just returned.”
“Lisette was right, you can be nothing less than the devil [le démon],” said the Countess with a sinister laugh, “and I think we shall be able to do business together.... Finish your account.”
“Then you and your maid together pushed Monsieur Raoul, who resisted, into the dressing-room; Lisette forced him along the corridors and through two or three rooms; they then went down a winding staircase, in the wing of the Castle opposite to the one by which they had gone up. On arriving at the foot of the staircase, the fugitives found the door locked; then they ran into a kind of office where Lisette opened the window, which was about seven or eight feet above the ground. Monsieur Raoul leaped down out of this window, ran to the stable, found his horse still there, but hamstrung; then he swore that if he met the Count at any time he would hamstring him as the Count had hamstrung his horse, for he thought it a cowardly act to injure a poor beast so unnecessarily. Then he went on foot to the breach, climbed it, and found the Count awaiting him outside the park, with his sword drawn. The Baron had his hunting-knife with him; he drew it, and the duel began.”
“Wait ... the Count appeared to be alone; after the fourth or fifth pass the Count was wounded in the shoulder, and sank on one knee, crying: ‘help, Lestocq!’ Then the Baron remembered his oath, and hamstrung the Count as he had hamstrung the horse; but as the Baron rose, Lestocq drove his knife into his back; it passed under the shoulder blade and out through the chest. I need not tell you where ... you kissed the wound yourself.”
“And after that?”
“The Count and his huntsman returned to the Castle, leaving the Baron lying helpless; when the latter came to, he made signs to some passing peasants, who put him on a litter, and bore him away, with the intention of taking him to Villers-Cotterets; but he was in such pain, that they could not carry him farther than Puiseux; there they laid him on the bed where you found him, and on which he breathed his last a second after the half hour after nine in the evening.”
The Countess rose, and without speaking, went to her jewel-case and took out the pearls she had worn two nights before. She handed them to Thibault.
“What are they for?” he asked.
“Take them,” said the Countess, “they are worth fifty thousand livres.”
“Are you still anxious for revenge?”
“Yes,” replied the Countess.
“Revenge will cost more than that.”
“How much will it cost?”
“Wait for me to-morrow night,” said Thibault, “and I will tell you.”
“Where shall I await you?” asked the Countess.
“Here,” said Thibault, with the leer of a wild animal.
“I will await you here,” said the Countess.
“Till to-morrow then.”
“Till to-morrow.”
Thibault went out. The Countess went and replaced the pearls in her dressing case; lifted up a false bottom, and drew from underneath it a small bottle containing an opal-coloured liquid, and a little dagger with a jewelled handle and case, and a blade inlaid with gold. She hid both beneath her pillow, knelt at her prie-dieu, and, her prayer finished, threw herself dressed on to her bed....
(92-94)
Dumas, Alexandre. 1868. Le meneur de loups. (Nouvelle édition). Paris: Lévy.
PDF at:
https://archive.org/det ails/bub_gb_BhlMAAAAMAAJ/page/n5
and:
https://beq.ebooksgratuits.com/vents/Dumas-meneur.pdf
Online text at:
https://fr.wikisource.org/wik i/Le_Meneur_de_loups
and
https://fr.wikisource.org/wiki/Livre:Dumas_- _Le_Meneur_de_loups_(1868).djvu
Dumas, Alexandre. 1921. The Wolf-Leader. Translated by Alfred Allinson. London: Methuen.
PDF at:
https://archive.org/details/wolfle ader00duma
or:
https://archive.org/details/wo lfleader00dumauoft
Online text at:
.
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