"She had better take care how she flouts Paul de Lorraine," came the retort, but the captain bade me march along. I followed him into the house, leaving Jean to be edified, no doubt, by a whole history, false and true, concerning Mlle. de Montluc. We bow down before the lofty of the earth, we underlings, but behind their backs there is none with whose names we make so free. And there we have the advantage of our masters; for they know little of our private matters while we know everything of theirs.
In the hall the captain turned me over to a lackey who conducted me through a couple of antechambers to a curtained doorway whence issued a merry confusion of voices and laughter. He pa.s.sed in while I remained to undergo the scrutiny of the pair of flunkies whose repose we had invaded. But in a moment my guide appeared again, lifting the curtain for me to enter.
The big room was ablaze with candles set in mirrored sconces along the walls, set also in silver candelabra on the tables. There was a crowd of people in the place, a hundred it seemed to my dazzled eyes; grouped, most of them, about the tables set up and down, either taking hands themselves at cards or dice or betting on those who did. Bluff soldiers in breastplate and jack-boots were not wanting in the throng, but the larger number of the gallants were brave in silken doublets and spotless ruffs, as became a n.o.ble"s drawing-room. And the ladies! mordieu, what am I to say of them? Tricked out in every gay colour under the sun, agleam with jewels--eh bien, the ladies of St. Quentin, that I had thought so fine, were but serving-maids to these.
I stood blinking, dazed by the lights and the crowd and the chatter, unable in the first moment to note clearly any face in the congregation of strange countenances. Nor would it have helped me if I could, for here close about were a dozen fair women, any one of whom might be Mlle. de Montluc. My heart hammered in my throat. I knew not whom to address. But a young n.o.ble near by, dazzling in a suit of pink, took the burden on himself.
"I heard Mar"s name; yet you are not M. de Mar, I think."
He spoke with a languid but none the less teasing derision. In truth, I must have resembled a little brown hare suddenly turned out of a bag in the midst of that gorgeous company.
"No," I stammered; "I am his servant. I seek Mlle. de Montluc."
"I have wondered what has become of etienne de Mar this last month,"
spoke a second young gentleman, advancing from his place behind a fair one"s chair. He was neither so pretty nor so fine as the other, but in his short, stocky figure and square face there was a force which his comrade lacked. He regarded me with a far keener glance as he asked:
"Peste! he must be in low water if this is the best he can do for a lackey."
"Perhaps the fellow"s errand is to beg an advance from Mlle. de Montluc," suggested the pink youth.
"Who speaks my name?" a clear voice called; and a lady, laying down her hand at cards, rose and came toward me.
She was clad in amber satin. She was tall, and she carried herself with stately grace. Her black hair shadowed a cheek as purely white and pink as that of any yellow-locked Frisian girl, while her eyes, under their sooty lashes, shone blue as corn-flowers.
I began to understand M. etienne.
"Who is it wants me?" she repeated, and catching sight of me stood regarding me in some surprise, not unfriendly, waiting for me to explain myself. But before I could find my tongue the man in pink answered her with his soft drawl:
"Mademoiselle, this is a minister plenipotentiary and envoy extraordinary--most extraordinary--from the court of his Highness the Comte de Mar."
"Oh, that is it!" she cried with a little laugh, but not, I think, at my uncouthness, though she looked me over curiously.
"He has not come himself, M. de Mar?"
"It appears not, mademoiselle."
She did not seem vastly disconcerted for all she cried in doleful tones:
"Alack! alack! I have lost. And Paul is not present to enjoy his triumph. He wagered me a pair of pearl-broidered gloves that I could not produce M. de Mar."
"But it is not his fault," I answered her, eagerly. "It is not M. de Mar"s fault, mademoiselle. He has been hurt to-day, and he could not come. He is in bed of his wounds; he could not walk across his room. He tried. He bade me lay at mademoiselle"s feet his lifelong services."
"Ah, Lorance!" cried a young demoiselle in a sky-coloured gown, "methinks you have indeed lost M. de Mar if he sends you no better messenger of his regrets than this horse-boy."
"I have lost the gloves, that is certain and sad," Mlle. de Montluc replied, as if the loss of the wager were all her care. "I am punished for my vanity, mesdames et messieurs. I undertook to produce my recreant squire and I have failed. Alas!" And she put up her white hands before her face with a pretty imitation of despair, save that her eyes sparkled from between her fingers.
By this time the gamesters about us had stopped their play, in a general interest in the affair. An older lady coming forward with an air of authority demanded:
"What is this disturbance, Lorance?"
"A wager between me and my cousin Paul, madame," she answered with instant gravity and respect.
"Paul de Lorraine! Is he here?" the other asked, unpleased, I thought.
"Yes, madame. He dropped from the skies on us this afternoon. He is out of the house again now."
"But while he was in the house," quoth she in sky-colour, "though he did not find time to pay his respects to Mme. la d.u.c.h.esse, he had the leisure for considerable conversation with Mlle. de Montluc."
The other lady, whom I now guessed to be the d.u.c.h.esse de Mayenne herself, turned somewhat sharply on her cousin of Montluc.
"I do not yet hear your excuses, mademoiselle, for the introduction of a stable-boy into my salon."
"I beg you to believe, madame, I am not responsible for it," she protested. "Paul, when he was here, saw fit to rally me concerning M. de Mar. Mlle. de Tavanne informed him of the count"s defection and they were pleased to be merry with me over it. I vowed I could get him back if I wished. The end of the matter was that I wrote a letter which my cousin promised to have conveyed to M. le Comte"s old lodgings. This is the answer," mademoiselle cried, with a wave of her hand toward me. "But I did not expect it in this guise, madame. Blame your lackeys who know not their duties, not me."
"I blame you, mademoiselle," Mme. de Mayenne answered her, tartly. "I consider my salon no place for intrigues with horse-boys. If you must hold colloquy with this fellow, take him whither he belongs--to the stables."
A laugh went up among those who laugh at whatever a d.u.c.h.ess says.
"Come, mesdames, we will resume our play," she added to the ladies who had followed her on the scene, and turned her back in lofty disdain on Mlle. de Montluc and her concerns. But though some of the company obeyed her, a curious circle still surrounded us.
"Dame! if you must be banished to the stables, we all will go, mademoiselle," declared the pink gallant. "We all want news of the vanished Mar."
"Indeed we do. We have missed him sorely. And I dare swear this messenger"s account will prove diverting," lisped the sky-coloured demoiselle.
I was not enjoying myself. I had given all my hopes of glory to be out in the street again. I wished Mlle. de Montluc would take me to the stables--anywhere out of this laughing company. But she had no such intent.
"I think madame does not mean her sentence," she rejoined. "I would not for the world frustrate your curiosity, Blanche; nor yours, M. de Champfleury. Tell us what has befallen your master, Sir Courier."
"He has been in a duel, mademoiselle."
"Whom was he fighting?"
"And for what lady"s favour?"
"Is it a pretty Huguenot this time?"
"Does she make him read his Bible?"
"Or did her big brother set on him for a wicked papist?"
The questions chorussed upon me; I saw they were framed to tease mademoiselle. I answered as best I might:
"He thinks of no lady but Mlle. de Montluc. The fight was over other matters. I am only told to say M. le Comte regrets most heartily that his wound prevents his coming, and to a.s.sure mademoiselle that he is too weak and faint to walk across the floor."
"Then exceed your instructions a little. Tell us what monsieur has been about these four weeks that he could not take time to visit us."
I was in a dilemma. I knew she was M. etienne"s chosen lady and therefore deserving of all fealty from me; yet at the same time I could not answer her question. It was sheer embarra.s.sment and no intent of rudeness that caused my short answer:
"About his own concerns, mademoiselle."