"It would seem that you are not his friend, monsieur," said Valentine, with an ironical glance at the little man.
"I, madame la marquise? Oh! I bear him no ill will. I have never been his rival. Ha! ha!--Look, he is coming this way!"
Leodgard, having learned from several persons that the Marquise de Santoval was in that room, was trying to force his way through the crowd and had succeeded in reaching a point within a few feet of the window where Valentine was.
Old De Noirteuil immediately bowed several times to Leodgard and offered him his hand, saying, in the shrill, piercing voice which seems to be the patrimony of hunchbacks:
"Hail! my dear count, hail! Enchanted to see you, on my word of honor!
you are such a rare bird--at court, at all events; no one will ever reproach you for being too zealous a courtier! But, vive Dieu! you should not abandon your place to others in this way! A Marvejols is intended to show himself, as I was saying just now to my friend the Marquis de Santoval and his charming wife."
While the little old man was speaking, Leodgard had fixed his eyes on Valentine, who, in her turn, fixed hers upon him. This reciprocal glance lasted only an instant, but what a mult.i.tude of things were said during that swift flash, which seemed of the sort to kindle a conflagration!
The Comte de Marvejols well deserved that a lady should rest her eyes upon him. Hardly twenty-eight years old, tall, well made, and endowed with a n.o.ble and graceful bearing, he possessed in addition very handsome features and an expression at once winning and haughty. The only points that one could criticise in Leodgard"s appearance were an extreme pallor which gave to his face a suggestion of the other world, and a certain vagueness in his glance which harmonized too well with the pallor of his brow.
But, as women, in general, are rather inclined to men who have something uncommon about them, Leodgard made many conquests, and his appearance at the Prince de Valdimer"s had created a sensation.
After exchanging a handshake with Monsieur de Noirteuil, he saluted the Marquis de Santoval; then he bowed low to Valentine, accompanying the movement with a slight smile, which indicated that it was not the first time that he had presented his respects to the marchioness. Then he walked on into another salon.
"He is good-looking, very good-looking, a charming cavalier!" murmured the little old man, looking after the count.
"Monsieur de Marvejols bowed to you as to an old acquaintance, it seemed to me," said Monsieur de Santoval, whose brow had grown dark.
"Why, my father was a very close friend of the Marquis de Marvejols, so that the count and I are not strangers; I have met him once or twice."
"Oh! I beg pardon; I knew nothing of that.--Is not the count married?"
"Yes, indeed! oh, yes!" said Monsieur de Noirteuil; "in fact, he made a very absurd marriage--the daughter of a man who kept a shop; and it was his father, the old marquis, who insisted that the marriage should take place. It seems that there had been seduction, malediction, desertion--and a child with it all."
"Men renowned for their _bonnes fortunes_ seem to have bad ones too, sometimes!" observed Monsieur de Santoval, smiling in a strange fashion.
"It seems to me, monsieur, that the crowd is less dense," said Valentine, "and that we might walk through the other rooms now."
"With pleasure, madame; I am at your service."
"Lovely woman! enchanting woman!" cried the little hunchback, as he watched the young marchioness move away on her husband"s arm.
"Yes," said the Baron de Montrevert, leaning unceremoniously on the little man"s shoulder; "but much too lovely for her husband--eh, Noirteuil?"
"Do not lean on me so, baron--you are heavy, you are extremely heavy, baron!"
"What do you mean by that, you crafty old man? Do you refer to my body or my mind?"
"Both."
"Is it true that Leodgard is here?"
"Quite true; I spoke to him just now."
"Do you know that Senange has enticed Camilla, his mistress, away from him?"
"How do you suppose that I know that? Do I consort with courtesans, pray? I have never cared for that sort of woman!"
"Ha! ha! ha! I think that you have been very wise, my dear friend!"
"You laugh, do you? Mon Dieu! if I had chosen to cover them with gold, they would have adored me."
"You mean that they would have pretended to."
"To a man of sense, that amounts to the same thing. Look you--you mention Leodgard; he is handsome, young, and well made; and yet you told me just now that his mistress had left him!"
"That is true; and the strangest part of it is that Leodgard has not had a quarrel with Senange; indeed, it is said that they continue to be good friends."
"Par la sambleu! I should say so! What greater service can one render a friend than to rid him of an old mistress?"
"Noirteuil, you are a villain! It is very lucky for the ladies that you have that slight protuberance on your shoulder!"
"Why so?"
"Because it has preserved them from the tricks you would have played on them.--But I propose to try to find the fair Santoval, and, if possible, I will dance with her."
"Go! go singe yourself at the candle, my handsome moth!" said the little old man, mingling with the crowd; "I fancy that more than one of you will scorch his wings; but I shall not be one!"
Leodgard had turned his back on Valentine, still fascinated by her glance, by her beauty which had disturbed his senses, by her charming and n.o.ble carriage, by the grace with which she wore her splendid costume, and, lastly, by the change which the t.i.tle of wife had wrought in her manner and in her whole aspect.
He could not convince himself that that intoxicating beauty was really the maiden whose hand he had refused. But he remembered that in those days he had hardly glanced at her, and that she, on her side, had barely raised her eyes to his face; and he said to himself:
"What a difference! What a glance she flashed at me just now! There was in her eyes a sort of ironical expression which seemed to jeer at me for having failed to appreciate her--a sort of challenge to me to refuse to do homage to her charms!--Ah! I long to see her again! to gaze upon her charms a long while, a very long while! to taste that happiness which I once spurned! Will she look at me again as she did just now?"
Leodgard succeeded without difficulty in finding Valentine. The young marchioness, alleging the heat as a pretext, had refused all invitations to dance; she had seated herself on one of the raised benches in the gallery, which were so arranged that the ladies who sat there could enjoy the sight of the ball without moving.
When he discovered Valentine, the Comte de Marvejols leaned against a pillar within fifteen feet of her, because from that place, thanks to her elevated position, he could gaze at her at his ease. The Marquis de Santoval, being at the foot of the benches, and surrounded by people, could not see Leodgard.
The latter had been in his chosen place but a few moments when he became certain that Valentine had seen him, that she knew that he was there for the sole purpose of admiring her and watching her movements. Thereafter he saw n.o.body in the whole a.s.semblage but that woman, a single glance from whose eyes had sufficed to set his heart on fire. All the pa.s.sing, all the going and coming about him were powerless to divert his attention; his eyes did not wander from the Marquise de Santoval.
"Vive Dieu! my dear count, you are terribly preoccupied, this is the second time that I have spoken to you without obtaining a reply!"
As he spoke, the Baron de Montrevert placed his hand on Leodgard"s arm; the latter angrily roused himself from his contemplation and muttered:
"Well! what is it, Montrevert? Is not a man the master of his thoughts and actions here?"
"Oh, the devil! How surly you are to-night, Leodgard! Have I disturbed you in some very pleasant occupation? I will wager that I know what has nailed you to this pillar! Yes, now I know!--Aha! my dear master, we are admiring the Marquise de Santoval, who is on one of the benches yonder!--Well! in that case, I forgive you for snarling at me--such a lovely woman is quite capable of making us forget our friends!--But look--it seems to me that she casts a glance in our direction; this is a good place, apparently!"
Leodgard had resumed his contemplation of the marchioness and was no longer listening to Montrevert.
At that moment the little old hunchback joined them and stood on tiptoe, crying:
"What are you looking at there? Is the cardinal in that direction? I don"t care about seeing him--I know him; still, as they say that he is thinner than ever, I should like to judge.--Montrevert, take me in your arms a moment, so that I may see."