Phebus started and turned scarlet.
"Don't look so exasperatingly sheepish! you quivering mass of jelly," sneered Pharamond.
An explosion of laughter resounded through the wood and ceased, and the glitter shone forth again.
"Do you know that it is extremely wrong to nourish a flame for one's brother's wife?" he inquired dryly. "Most reprehensible in itself and not unlikely to lead to complications. Will Clovis approve, think you?"
Perceiving that Phebus was too confused and upset by the sudden attack to answer, the abbé frisked on, urging forward both horses with his whip.
"See!" he observed, addressing nature generally. "How lenient Mother Church can be to the shortcomings of the weak! Do I blame this culprit for adoring the lovely Gabrielle? Not a bit! If he did not his heart would be of stone instead of pulp. Stout Phebus is consumed with hopeless adoration. But is it hopeless? Ah! There's the rub. Don't babble like an idiot, but confess. Have we openly given vent to our boiling passion? Yes, or no?"
The chevalier bent his head and sobbed out, "I'm a miserable wicked wretch!"
"Of course you are," affably agreed the abbé. "Make a clean breast of it to Mother Church, who will straightway absolve the sinner. Do we adore her to the ends of our fat fingers? Eh?"
"How can I help adoring her?" replied harassed Phebus.
"Certainly not--how could you?" echoed his tormentor. "Ho! ho! ho! ho!" The abbé's mocking laugh reverberated among the trees. "I've half a mind to tell Clovis--shall I? How he'd enjoy the jest!" And at contemplation of the maze of mischief that might result from such a proceeding, he laughed again, "Ho! ho!"
"Does she return your love? Have you really made the trial?" he inquired suddenly, with a sneer upon his lips. "No? Then, my poor fellow, I am genuinely sorry for your plight. Presto! The Church has run away! Behold a doctor; hearken to words of wisdom. Your ailment's very bad, but curable. This is a queer world, I'd have you know, in which there is one unpardonable crime, failure. We hunt down and exterminate the exposed bungler, who, if he bungles, and would yet save his skin, must take precautions not to be found out. Now I found you out at once, you simple oaf, so you deserve to be delivered to Clovis. I ought to sacrifice so paltry a specimen of intrigue, but then--are you not, too, my brother?"
The chevalier knitted his brows in a vain effort to comprehend what underlay the abbé's banter.
"Oh! what a tender brother!" the latter continued; "for I will even assist you in your quest. Yes, I, the virtuous Abbé Pharamond. The doctor prescribes a fervent wooing--a scaling of the ramparts--a storming of the citadel. You have gone too timidly to work. Between this husband and wife there can be no bond of union. That much we know. Ergo, the heart of the beauty is yet to win, since she is fancy free. You shall try your luck in earnest, and I will give you all my help--on one condition."
"You will!" murmured Phebus, melted to tears by admiring gratitude, "How shall I repay such kindness?"
"Thus. You try your hand and do your best, but if you fail you retire for ever from the field. If she likes you, well and good. Win and wear her and be happy. If not, promise to worry her no more with annoying importunities."
The suggested arrangement was so singular, that the chevalier, recovering himself a little, knew not what to think. What could his astute brother be driving at? Why should he desire to throw the hitherto unstained wife into a lover's arms? Had he a spite against the marquis? No. Against Gabrielle? Hardly. Perhaps he was sorry, as Phebus had been, to observe Clovis's neglect, and anxious to see Ariadne consoled? How kind of the abbé to select him, the chevalier, as the proposed comforter! A new vista of possibilities unrolled itself. Unaided he would have gone on sympathetically sighing, but with the abbé's encouragement and active assistance, wonders might be accomplished.
The latter was beaming on him now with bonhomie. Clearly he wished, fraternally, to see sister-in-law and brother happy, and imbued with the spirit of the times in which they lived, was doing his best to make them so. Warmly the chevalier blurted out his thanks. His brother was good and kind, as he always meant to be, though now and then so puzzling and strange. He would follow his instructions dutifully to the letter, and Gabrielle won, would be till death her slave.
"That is well," assented the abbé with a friendly clap on the shoulder. "You have beaten about the bush too long, instead of making straight for the goal. Women have sharp instincts, and since they require wooing, despise too bashful swains. This very night the coast shall be kept clear for you. The balmy autumn breeze is to love vows the softest of accompaniments. I will retain Clovis in his study with arguments about the prophet he reveres."
The two jogged on in amicable silence, both equally satisfied, to all appearances, with the result of the conference, until the peaked turrets of Lorge frowned black against a primrose sunset. Then, before entering the courtyard, the abbé turned and whispered sternly, "A compact, mind, which you will break at your peril. Win or withdraw. Do not attempt to deceive me, for I never forgive deceit."
CHAPTER VI.
TEMPTATION.
The eccentric schemer was true to his word, as grateful Phebus acknowledged with eyes more watery than usual. What a blessed thing it was to have so accommodating a brother as Pharamond! The chevalier grew hot and cold as he considered the chance that was about to be thrown in his way, a golden chance--and between whimsical little prayers for success, he gazed furtively now and then at the other brother, whose honour he was so ready to smirch.
The prodigies having been sent to bed, and the evening meal being leisurely discussed, the abbé became inquisitive anent the latest intelligence from Spa. Was it true that the genius of the prophet had achieved yet greater marvels? What were these rumours as to a further magnetic development, accompanied by fresh triumphs? Clovis snapped eagerly at the bait, and proceeded to explain that something amazing had indeed been discovered such as should transform the world of science. Persons afflicted with ailments were in future to be ranged around a series of large buckets or tubs containing a mixture of broken glass, iron shavings, and cold water. How simple a treatment, and yet how efficacious! Talk of ancient miracles! No wonder that all the doctors were mad with spite, as well as all the apothecaries, and that they should thirst for the blood of him who had exposed their disgraceful cheating!
"Most amazing! Most wonderful!" echoed the abbé, leaning back in his chair. "The wicked spirits conquered, and those who were afflicted through their malice being cured by means of the tub, what was there left of the curse bequeathed by Adam? If somebody would only go a step or two further and discover the elixir of life, and a method of making gold, the world would be quite a pleasant place to live in, and he for one would positively decline to leave it."
Gabrielle listened, mystified, glancing from one to another of the trio. Clovis was quite animated. His eyes sparkled, his cheeks were flushed, and his tongue loosened. What power was this of the abbé's, which could melt an icicle, bring a corpse to life? She was awed and uneasy.
Was Pharamond making fun of Clovis--fooling him to the top of his bent--in mischief? Surely not, for did he not owe to his brother's kindness a secure asylum, a refuge in an awkward strait, and pocket money also? For Gabrielle, in her kindness of heart, had guessed that the fugitives were out at elbows, and had quietly handed two neatly enveloped packets to her husband, with a request that he would pass them on. Clovis took the packets without surprise or even thanks, and his wife smiled to herself at his carelessness in money matters. Since his marriage he had always been well provided without the asking, and had come--how like a dreamer--to look on coin as convenient manna, which somehow dropped from heaven just at the auspicious moment.
What could so sensible a man as the abbé mean by encouraging him in his nonsense? He was sitting there now with head thrown back, and the placid air of one who knows how to enjoy digestion, rapping out now and then a leading question,