The Launching of Roger Brook

and a greater concentration of forces.

Athenais was now very frequently in Paris as, to keep up the pretence that she meant to go through with the marriage that had been arranged for her, she had ordered an elaborate trousseau; and this necessitated her dressmakers, furriers, mantle makers and milliners waiting upon her several days a week and occupying hours of her time.

Madame Marie-Ange had long since become accustomed to her charge's strange whim of browsing through the collection of old toys and books in the neglected playroom and, as her hip stiU pained her when negotiating any flight of stairs, she never came up there. In consequence, from the latter part of July onward, Athenais and Roger had met there at least once, and often twice, a week.

Having each sworn to take no rash action without first consulting the other they seemed to have reached a stalemate. At every meeting each snatched at the caresses that the other offered so eagerly and strove to put out of their minds the inexorable approach of the fatal day.

M. de la Tour d'Auvergne's wound had healed well and, by mid-August, he was able to get about again; but he still wore one arm strapped to his side in order to prevent any sudden movement reopening the wound. Roger went often to see him and, again and again, they talked gloomily of Athenais's situation. The Vicomte still had no idea that Roger saw her alone in secret, but knew that he was devoted to her and the two of them racked their brains in vain for a way to save her from the nightmare of a marriage with M. de Caylus. The Vicomte said that he would willingly fight again but, having fought him once, the Count was under no compulsion to do so a second time, and, in any case, the wound received in the first combat rendered another out of the question until long after the date fixed for the wedding.

Athenais herself brought matters to a head. On the evening of Sunday the 20th of August, after she and Roger had both attended Vespers, they kept a tryst in the playroom. He had hardly taken her in his arms, before she said:

'My dear love, let us make the most of this hour, for 'tis the last we will have together.'

Roger began to speak, but she put a soft hand over his mouth, and went on: 'There are but ten days left, and I can bear the strain of evading this terrible issue no longer. I have had ample time to search my mind and I cannot face marriage with M. de Caylus. I have now formed a definite resolve to tell my father to-morrow night that it is my intention to seek refuge from the world in a convent.'

For a moment Roger did not reply. He had hoped to the last moment that Providence would intervene and provide some way of escape for her; but with only nine clear days left there now seemed little chance of that. He felt as if, somehow, deep down inside himself, he had always known that if she was to be saved it would depend upon himself. He had thought about the awful problem for so long that he knew exactly what he was called on to do. And now, at whatever risk to himself, the time had come when he must do it.

CHAPTER XXI

DOUBLE CRISIS

WHEN Roger did speak, it was firmly. He said: 'No. You are not to defy your father yet. I have devised a way in which I can preserve you from M. de Caylus; but it will take a few days to arrange the final details. You must give me till the end of the week. We will meet again on Saturday and if I cannot tell you definitely that there is a fair chance of your not being called on to go through with this hateful marriage you may, that night, declare your intention of retiring to a convent. But you are not to take this most desperate step till then.'

His voice held such a ring of authority and confidence that Athenais gave in without a murmur; and after an hour of sweet emotion he left her, fully determined on his project.

When the Marquis was in Paris he often worked late at night but he never entered his sanctum before midday, so Roger was under no obligation to be in his office much before that hour. On coming downstairs the morning after he had pledged himself to take desperate measures he ordered his favourite riding-horse to be saddled and, shortly after nine o'clock, took the road to Passy.

M. l'Abbe de Perigord's circle did not gather, to pull the world to pieces over their cups of chocolate at the little house in the Rue de Bellechasse, until eleven o'clock; so Roger planned to get in an hour alone with his friend before any of the others arrived. When he reached the house he was told that M. le Abbe had not yet risen, but Roger had expected that and he sent up a message to the effect that he had come thus early as he particularly desired a private conversation which might occupy some little time.

He was asked to wait in the familiar, sunny morning-room, and a quarter of an hour later the Abbe joined him there. M. de Perigord was still in deshabille, wearing a loose gown of shot-blue silk and looking somewhat jaded.

Gracefully smothering a yawn he said: 'You're a fine fellow to get me up at this godless hour: I did not get to bed till after seven.'

Roger smiled. 'You're such a glutton for enjoyment that I thought you never slept, but I suppose you needs must at times.'

'Alas, yes! But I spent the night hours with the Du Barry, at her chateau of Luciennes; and 'twas a riot, but exhausting.'

'What, thenl Have you now become the lover of Louis XV's old mistress?'

'Nay, I fear I expressed myself badly. 'Tis said that since Lord Seymour left her she has been as faithful as a bourgeois wife to the Due de Cosse-Brissac. I was but one of the fifteen guests—all of us men, whom they entertained to dinner. And though she must be forty-three or more I vow she did not look a day over thirty. Moreover, although she was bred in the gutter she has ever been a most charming hostess, and she has not lost the art in her retirement. After dinner she gave us a ballet representing the Concourse of the Nations. There were fifteen beauties in it, each of a different nationality, including a Chinese, an Arab, an Indian and a Blackamoor. When tile ballet was done they supped with us and we drew lots for their favour. The Spaniard fell to me and she proved no mean performer. But I weary you with all this. Tell me now of this urgent matter which has caused you to rob me of my beauty sleep.'

Roger at once plunged into the business he had come upon and, without mentioning any names, gave an account of the situation in which Athenais and himself found themselves. He then asked the Abbe what he would advise the hypothetical young man in the case to do.

M. de Perigord's slim hand covered another yawn. 'Why, 'tis simple, mon ami. If the young man is not a fool he will point out to the young woman that, after three months in a convent she will spend the rest of her life regretting her rash decision, whereas after three months of marriage to her fianc6 she will have forgotten how unpleasant he is.'

'But those three months!' protested Roger. 'Nay! I could never urge the woman I love to surrender herself to such a nightmare.'

The Abbe smiled with mild amusement. ' 'Twas not for me to dot the 'i's' and cross the 't's'; but now that you have let the cat out of the bag, shall we talk of yourself and, quite obviously, Mademoiselle de Rochambeau's betrothal to M. le Comte de Caylus?'

Roger shrugged. 'I would have had to name them later, in any case, since I require your help.'

'Then, if you have already formed some plan, why ask my advice?'

'Because I thought you might be able to suggest something that I have not yet thought of. I hoped you would see the problem from a different angle.'

' 'Tis clear that I do. 'Twould be a crazy act for a lovely creature like Athenais de Rochambeau to cut short her life at the age of eighteen.'

'I know it. But she herself has selected that course rather than marry de Caylus. And how can one blame her? The very thought of her in the arms of that gross half-breed is a blasphemy.'

'Nonsense!' The Abbe rubbed the tip of his retrousse nose angrily. 'What matters a man's size to a woman providing he be a good lover; and de Caylus is a healthy enough animal. As for his dash of black blood, 'tis a thing against which you English are prejudiced, I know, but here in France we are more broadminded. If she dislikes his looks tell her to put a pillow over her face and think of the lovely curly-haired children he will give her. Honestly, mon cher Chevalier, you are behaving like a child and I needs must speak brutally to bring you to your senses.'

Roger had gone slightly pale, and he exclaimed: 'He'll give her no children as long as I live!'

De Perigord threw up his hands. 'Since, like all advice-seekers, you came here only to have some project you have already formed applauded, let me hear it.'