"You embarrass me very much, Madame," she said at last. "Although I know nothing of these things, I am sure this diamond must be worth a great deal more than five thousand roubles. Why not go to a jeweler in the town?"
"And have him refuse to return it to me? You are new here. You do not know yet what these people are like. Many of them are nothing more than adventurers, drawn here by the loans to be had from the governor. If I were to show anyone this stone they would kill me before they would let me have it back."
"Very well then. There is the governor. Why not entrust this jewel to him?"
"Because he is a ruthless persecutor of gambling halls—and of all who frequent them. I wish to settle in these parts, where it is beautiful and mild and sunny. I should not be granted permission to do so if the Duc de Richelieu knew the nature of my troubles. I am not even sure that the tsar, who has been good enough to take an interest in me and has even sent one of his officers to escort me, would look on it more kindly."
"You surprise me. I thought the Russians were passionate gamblers."
Madame de Gachet made a gesture of impatience and rose to her feet.
"My dear child, let us say no more about it. What I am asking of you is a small service of a few hours, no more, or so I trust. If you are unable to accommodate me, please say no more. I will endeavor to make some other arrangement, although—Oh, good God! How came I to get myself into this dreadful fix? If my poor husband could see me—" And the countess subsided abruptly onto her chair, shaking with sobs. Then, burying her face in her hands, she began to cry in good earnest.
Horrified to feel herself the cause of such misery, Marianne sprang out of bed and, pausing only to place the diamond carefully on the bedside table, scrambled hastily into a dressing gown and dropped to her knees beside her visitor, doing her best to comfort her.
"Oh, please, please don't cry! Of course I'll help you, my dear Countess! Forgive me if I seemed suspicious and asked too many questions, but the sight of the diamond frightened me a little. It is so very beautiful that I am quite afraid to have it in my possession… Only do, please, calm yourself. I will gladly lend you the money."
Before leaving Humayunabad, Marianne had reluctantly accepted a large sum in gold and letters of credit pressed upon the travelers by Turhan Bey's steward. She was unwilling now to accept money from the man who had taken away her child but Osman had made it clear that he dared not disobey what was an explicit order and in the end it was Jolival, with a much greater grasp of the practicalities of life, who had made her see reason. Thanks to his foresight, Osman had even been so obliging as to obtain Russian money for them, thus sparing them the hazards and chicanery of the money market.
Rising quickly to her feet, Marianne now went to one of her boxes and, having extracted the required sum, returned to place it in her visitor's hands.
"There, take it! And never doubt my friendship. I cannot bear to leave a friend of my father's in difficulties."
In a moment the countess had dried her eyes and, tucking the notes away in her corsage, flung her arms around Marianne and kissed her effusively.
"What a darling you are!" she cried. "How can I ever thank you?"
"Why—by drying your tears."
"They are dried already. And now I am going to sign a receipt for you. I will redeem it tonight."
"No, please. There is no need. Indeed, you will offend me. I am not a moneylender. In fact, I should like you to take back this splendid stone also."
But Madame de Gachet flung up her hand in a gesture of categorical refusal.
"Absolutely not! Or I shall be offended. Either I will return these five thousand rubles to you this evening or you will keep that stone. It is a family heirloom which I could never bring myself to sell, but you may do so very readily for I shall not be there to see it. I will leave you now, and thank you again a thousand times."
She went to the door but paused with her hand on the knob to look back at Marianne imploringly.
"Just one more favor. Will you be kind enough not to speak to anyone of our little transaction? By this evening I hope it will be settled and we need never mention it again. And so I beg you to keep my secret—even from the gentleman who is your traveling companion."
"Have no fear. I shall say nothing to him."
She had, in fact, no inclination to mention the matter to Jolival in view of the suspicions he had voiced regarding the unfortunate creature, who was clearly more to be pitied than blamed. Arcadius clung tenaciously to his own ideas and once he had taken a notion into his head it was the devil's own job to get him to abandon it. He would have been furious to learn that Marianne had lent five thousand rubles to a fellow countrywoman simply because she had turned out to be an old friend of her father's.
At the thought of Jolival, Marianne did admit to certain qualms. She had made short work of his advice and had undoubtedly been taking something of a risk in lending the money. She knew that gambling was a terrible passion and that she had been wrong to encourage it in the countess, but she had been moved by the poor woman's tears and saw her above all as a victim. She could not, no, she really could not have left a friend of her family, a fellow countrywoman and especially a woman of that age to the tender mercies of the owners of gambling houses or of the moneylenders of the town, who would have pounced only too readily on the improvident creature's remarkable jewel.
After watching her visitor's departure from the doorway, Marianne walked slowly back to her bed. Sitting down on the edge of it, she took the diamond drop in her fingers and watched the play of light upon it. It was certainly a very wonderful stone and she caught herself thinking that she would not be averse to keeping it if the countess failed to recoup her losses.
If that happened she might offer her a further sum to make up for her loss, but on no account would she ever sell such a treasure.
At the same time, staring at the diamond and remembering the magnificent earrings trembling in the countess's ears the day before, she felt her curiosity awaken. Who were these Gachets who possessed such princely jewels and how had the woman managed to retain them after twenty years of exile, when so many other émigrés had been and still were reduced to dire extremities of need? Had gambling come to her rescue?
It was hard to credit, for those to whom whist, faro or any other game of hazard had brought lasting prosperity were few indeed. Besides, not even Madame de Gachet herself knew whether her winnings with the thousand rubles left over after her debt was paid would be enough to cover the initial loan.
The more Marianne thought about it, the more depressed it made her. She had not yet reached the point of regretting her generous impulse but she had to admit that she had been a trifle hasty. Perhaps after all she would have been wiser to send for Jolival and have discussed it with him. But then the countess had been so insistent that the matter be kept a secret between her and her friend's daughter, and that was surely natural enough. At all events, she had given her promise to say nothing.
Finding no satisfactory answer to any of these problems, Marianne stowed the diamond away safely in her reticule and turned her attention to getting dressed. For some reason she was suddenly in a hurry to find Jolival and discover whether he had learned any more about the widow of the late Comte de Gachet.
When she was dressed, she left her own room and went along the passage to her friend's, which was at the far end. At this point there were two doors side by side, both opening into the passage, and since she had forgotten Jolival's number she knocked first on one and, receiving no reply, moved on to the next. When this too produced no answer, she returned again to the first.