The Wolf-Leader Chapter 17

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Episode Transcript

Speaker 1 (00:00):
Chapter seventeen of The Wolf Leader by Alexander Dumas, translated
by Alfred Allens in eighteen fifty two to nineteen twenty nine.
This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Recording by
John Vanstan Savannah, Georgia, Chapter seventeen. The Baron de Mont
Golbert Thibaut found himself in the Countess's room. If the

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magnificence of Bailiff Magloire's furniture rescued from the lumber room
of his highness, the Duke of Orleans had astonished Tebau.
The daintiness, the harmony, the taste of the Countess's room
filled him with intoxicating delight. The rough child of the
forest had never seen anything like it, even in dreams,
for one cannot even dream of things of which we
have no idea. Double curtains were drawn across the two windows,

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the one set of white silk trimmed with lace, the
other of pale china blue satin embroidered with silver flowers.
The bed and the toilet table were draped to match
the windows, and were nearly smothered in clouds of valencienn
A lease. The walls were hung with very light rose
colored so milk, over which thick folds of Indian muslin,
delicate as woven air, undulated like waves of mist at

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the slightest breath of air from the door. The ceiling
was composed of a medallion painted by a bouchet and
representing the toilet of Venus. She was handing her cupids
the various articles of a woman's apparel, and these were
now all distributed, with the exception of the goddess's girdle.
The central medallion was surrounded by a series of panels,

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on which were painted supposed views of Natos, Paphos, and Amethys.
All the furniture, chairs, arm chairs, settees sociables was covered
with china satin similar to that of the curtains. Over
the groundwork of the carpet, of the color of pale
green water, were scattered bouquets of blue corn flowers, pink poppies,

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and white daisies. The tables were of rosewood, the corner
pieces of Indian lacquer, and the whole room was softly
lighted by pink wax candles held in two candelabra. A
vague and indescribably delicate perfume pervaded the air. One could
not say from what sweet essence, for it was scarcely
even a perfume, but rather an emanation, the same kind
of odorous exhalation. Whereby Eneas in the Eneid, recognized the

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presence of his mother. Tibau, pushed into the room by
the waiting maid, made one step forward and then stopped.
He had taken everything in at a glance, and hailed
everything at a breath. For a second there passed before
his mind's eye like a vision, Agnoletta's little cottage, Madame
Poulai's dining room, the bed chamber of the bailiff's wife.

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But they disappeared as quickly to give place to this
delicious paradise of love into which he had been transported,
as by magic. He could scarcely believe that what he
looked upon was real. Were there really men and women
in the world so blessed by fortune as to live
in such surroundings as these? Had he not been carried
to some wizard's castle, to some fairy's palace, And those

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who enjoyed such favor as this, what special good had
they done? What special evil had they done? Who were
deprived of these advantage, Why, instead of wishing to be
the barren for four and twenty hours, had he not
wished to be the Countess's lap dog all his life?
How would he bear to beatsy bow again? After having
seen all this? He had just reached this point in

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his reflections when the dressing room door opened, and the
Countess herself appeared, a fit bird for such a nest,
a fit flower for such a sweet scented garden. Her hair,
fastened only by four diamond pins, hung down loosely to
one side, while the rest was gathered into one large
curl that hung over the shoulder and fell into her bosom.
The graceful lines of her life's and well formed figure,

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no longer hidden by puffings of dress, were clearly indicated
beneath her loose pink silk gown, richly covered with lace.
So fine and transparent was the silk of her stockings
that it was more like pearl white flesh than any texture.
And her tiny feet were shod in little slippers made
of cloth of silver, with red heels, but not an

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adam of jewelry. No bracelets on the arms, no rings
on the fingers. There is just one row of pearls
round the throat. That was all, but what pearls worth
a king's ransom. As this radiant apparition came towards him,
Tibaut fell on his knees. He bowed himself, feeling crushed
at the sight of this luxury, of this beauty, which
to him seemed inseparable. Yes, yes, you may well kneel,

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kneel lower, lower, yet kiss my feet, kiss the carpet,
kiss the floor. But I shall not an either more
forgive you. You are a monster in truth, madame. If
I compare myself with you, I am even worse than that. Ah. Yes,
pretend that you mistake my words and think I am
only speaking of your outward appearance, when you know I

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am speaking of your behavior. And indeed, if your perfidious
soul were imaged in your face, you would verily and
indeed be a monster of ugliness. But yet it is
not so. For Monshour, for all his wickedness and infamous doings,
still remain means the handsomest gentleman in all the country road.
But come now, Monteur, ought you not to be ashamed

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of yourself, because I am the handsomest gentleman in the neighborhood,
asked Tibau, detecting by the tone of the lady's voice,
that his crime was not an irremediable one, no monsieur,
but for having the blackest soul and the falsest heart
ever hidden beneath such a gay and golden exterior. Now
get up and come and give an account of yourself

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to me. And the Countess, so speaking, held out a
hand to Debau, which offered pardon at the same time
that it demanded a kiss. Thibau took the soft, sweet
hand in his own and kissed it. Never had his
lips touched anything so like satin. The Countess now seated
herself on the settee and made a sign to Raoul
to sit down beside her. Let me know something of

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your doings, since you were last here, said the Countess
to him. First tell me, dear Countess, replied Tibou, when
I last was here, Do you mean you have forgotten?
One does not generally acknowledge things of that kind, unless
seeking for a cause of quarrel. On the contrary, dear friend,

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it is because the recollection of that last visit is
so present with me that I think it must have
been only yesterday we were together, and I try in
vain to recall what I have done. And I assure
you I have committed no other crime since yesterday, but
that of loving you. That's not a bad speech. But
you will not get yourself out of disgrace by paying compliments,

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dear Countess, said Tibau. Supposing we put off explanations to
another time. No, you must answer me now. It is
five days since I last saw you. What have you
been doing all that time? I am waiting for you
to tell me, Countess? How can you expect me, conscious
as I am, of my innocence, to accuse myself very well?

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Then I will not begin by saying anything about your
loitering in the court. Oh pray, let us speak of it.
How can you think, Countess, that, knowing you, the diamond
of diamonds was waiting for me, I should stop to
pick up an imitation, pearl Ah, But I know how
fickle men are, and Lizette is such a pretty girl.

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Not so, dear Jane. But you must understand that she
being our confidant and knowing all our secrets, I cannot
treat her quite like a servant. How agreeable it must
be to be able to say to one's self, I
am deceiving the Comtesse de montc Corbert, and I am
the rival of Monsieur Cuimoissie. Very well, then there shall

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be no more loiterings in the corridors, no more kisses
for poor Lizette, supposing, of course, there ever have been any. Well,
after all, there is no great harm in that. Do
you mean that I have done something even worse? Where
had you been the other night when you were met
on the road between Erneville and villeer Cortaret some one

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met me on the road, Yes, on the Erneville road.
Where were you coming from? I was coming home from fishing, fishing?
What fishing they had been drawing the Beerval ponds? Oh
we know all about that. You are such a fine fisher,
are you not, monsieur? And what sort of an eel

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were you bringing back in your net? Returning from your fishing?
At two o'clock in the morning, I had been dining
with my friend, the baron at vez at vese Ha.
I fancy you went there mainly to console the beautiful recluse,
whom the jealous baron keeps shut up. They are a
regular prisoner so they say. But even that I can

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forgive you, what is there a blacker crime? Still said Tibau,
who was beginning to feel quite reassured, seeing how quickly
the pardon followed on the accusation, however serious it appeared
at first. Yes, at the ball given by his Highness,
the Duke of Orleans. What ball? Why the one yesterday?

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It's not so very long ago, is it? Oh? Oh,
yesterday's ball. I was admiring you, indeed, but I was
not there. Is it necessary for you to be present, Jane?
For me to admire you? Cannot want admire you in
remembrance as truly as in person. And if, when absent
you triumph by comparison, the victory is only so much

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the greater, I dare say. And it was in order
to carry out the comparison to its utmost limits, that
you danced four times with Madame de bon Noel. They
are very pretty, are they not? Those dark women who
cover themselves with rouge and have eyebrows like the Chinese
mannikins on my screens and mustaches like a grenadier. Do

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you know what we talked about during those four dances?
It is true, then, that you danced four times with her.
It is true, no doubt. Since you say so? Is
that a proper sort of answer? What other could I give?
Could anyone contradict what was said by so pretty a mouth?

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Not I certainly? Who would still bless it even though
it were pronouncing my sentence of death? And as if
to await this sentence, Tibau fell on his knees before
the Countess. But at that moment the door opened and
Lizette rushed in fool of alarm. Ah, monsieur monteur, she cried,
save yourself, Here comes my master, the count. The count,

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exclaimed the Countess. Yes, the Count in person and his
huntsman lass Stock with him. Impossible, I assure you, Madame
Cramoissie saw them as plain as I see you. The
poor fellow was quite pale with fright. Ah. Then the
meta there was all a pretense, a trap to catch me.
Who can tell, Madame alas alas A men are such

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deceiving creatures. What is to be done, asked the Countess.
Wait for the Count and kill him, said Tibau, resolutely
furious at again seeing his good fortune escaping from him
and losing what, above all things, it had been his
ambition to possess, kill him, kill the count Are you mad, Raoul? No, no,

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you must fly, You must save yourself, Lizette. Lizette. Take
the baron through my dressing room, and in spite of
his resistance, Lizette, by dint of pushing him, got safely away.
Only just in time steps were heard coming up the
wide main staircase. The Countess, with a last word of
love to the supposed Raoul, glided quickly into her bedroom,
while Tibau followed Lizette. She led him rapidly along the

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corridor where cromwei See was keeping guard at the other end,
then into a room, and threw this into another, and
finally into a smaller one which led into a little tower.
Here the fugitives came again on to a staircase corresponding
with the one by which they had gone up, But
when they reached the bottom they found the door locked. Lizette,
with Tibau still following, went back up a few steps

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and to a sort of office in which a window
looking over the garden. This she opened. It was only
a few feet from the ground, and Tibau jumped out,
landing safely below. You know your horses called Lizette, jump
on its back, and do not stop till you get
to Valperfort. Tibau would have liked to thank her for
all her kindly warnings, but she was some six feet

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above him, and he had no time to lose. A
stride or two brought him to the clump of trees
under which stood the little building which served as stable
for his horse. But was the horse still there? He
heard a neigh which reassured him. Only the knae sounded,
he thought, more like a cry of pain. Tibau went in,
put out his hand, felt the horse, gathered up the reins,
and leaped on to its back, without touching the stirrups. Tibau,

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as we have already said, had suddenly become a consummate horseman.
But the horse no sooner felt the weight of the
rider on its back than the poor beast began to
totter on its legs. Tibau dug his spurs in savagely,
and the horse made a frantic effort to stand, but
in another instant, uttering one of those pitiful nays which
Tibau had heard when he approached the stable, it rolled

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helplessly over on to its side. Tibaux quickly disengaged his
leg from under the animal, which, as the poor thing
struggled to rise, he had no difficulty in doing, and
he found himself again on his feet. Then it became
clear to him that, in order to prevent his escape,
Monsieur le Comte de mont Gobert had hamstrung his horse.
Tibaux uttered an oath. If I ever meet you, Monsieur

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Comte de Montcalbert, he said, I swear that I will
hamstring you as you have hamstrung this pure beast. Then
he rushed out of the little building, and, remembering the
way he had come, turned in the direction of the
breach in the wall, and, walking quickly towards it, found it,
climbed over the stones and was again outside the park.
But his further passage was barred, for there in front

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of him was the figure of a man who stood
waiting with a drawn sword in his hand. Tibaux recognized
the Comte de mont Gobert. The Comte de Montcubert thought
he recognized Raoul de Varpafon. Draw Baron said the count
further explanation was unnecessary. Thibau, on his side, equally enraged
at having the prey on which he had already set

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tooth and claw snatched away from him, was as ready
to fight as the Count. He drew not his sword
but his hunting knife, and the two men crossed weapons. Tibau,
who was something of an adept at quarterstaff, had no
idea fencing. What was his surprise therefore, when he found
that he knew by instinct how to handle his weapon
and could parie and thrust according to all the rules

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of the art. He parried the first two or three
of the Count's blows with admirable skill. Ah I heard,
I remember, muttered the Count between his clenched teeth that
at last snatch who rivaled Saint George's himself at the foils.
Thibau had no conception who Saint George's might be, but
he was conscious of a strength and elasticity of wrist,

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thanks to which he felt he might have rivaled the
devil himself. So far, he had only been on the
de But the Count, having aimed one or two unsuccessful
lunges at him, he saw his opportunity struck out and
sent his knife clean through his adversary's shoulder. The Count
dropped his sword, tottered and falling on to one knee,
cried help the stock. Tibau ought then to have sheath

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his knife and fled, but unfortunately he remembered the oath
he had taken as regards the Count. When he had
found that his horse had been hamstrung. He slipped the
sharp blade of his weapon under the bent knee and
drew it towards him. The Count uttered a cry, but
as Tibau rose from his stooping posture, he too felt
a sharp pain between his shoulder blades, followed by a

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sensation as of extreme cold over the chest, and finally
the point of a weapon appeared above his right breast.
Then he saw a cloud of blood and knew no more.
The stock called to his master's aid as the latter
fell had run to the spot, and as ti Beau
rose from ham stringing, the Count had seized that moment
to dig his hunting knife into his back. End of

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Chapter seventeen, recording by John Vanstan Savannah, Georgia,