Part 11

Jarnonville, after walking through the salons without meeting the Comte de Marvejols, had also stepped into the garden; for it was with no intention of taking part in the thousand and one amusements which Camilla's guests anticipated that the chevalier had accepted the courtesan's invitation. But since he had acquired the habit of visiting the young countess, since he had been able to admire and caress the charming little Blanche, who, while recalling the child he had lost, had transformed his sombre humor into a not ungracious melancholy, and had opened his heart to gentler sensations, Jarnonville had more than once heard Bathilde express her regret that Léodgard did not know his daughter. And the chevalier, who too believed that it was impossible to know Blanche without loving her, had said to himself:

"If Léodgard should see the child, he would long to see her again, and the little angel would bring him back to that young wife who is so worthy of his love."

But in order that Léodgard should wish to see his daughter, it was necessary to speak to him of her, to arouse in his heart a desire to know her; and for that it was necessary to see him.

Jarnonville had been several times to the little house in Rue de Bretonvilliers; but he had never succeeded in finding Léodgard, who was absent or was unwilling to receive him.

Then it was that Camilla's invitation reached the chevalier. He knew that Léodgard could not fail to attend a fête given by his mistress, and the reader will understand the purpose which had led the chevalier thither.

At the end of a path Jarnonville found himself in the circle of which the basin formed the centre. He saw before him the man he was seeking, and, as Léodgard did not see him, he went to him and touched his arm gently.

"You seem very pensive in the midst of so hilarious a gathering, Comte de Marvejols!"

Léodgard started; but on recognizing Jarnonville, he replied, with an air of surprise:

"Ah! is it you, Jarnonville? How does it happen that we see you at this fête? You have not been seen lately at any card party, or in any affray with the rabble. People say that you are becoming virtuous! that you are no longer the mischief-maker, the intrepid swordsman, of the old days! It is too bad, i' faith! it is too bad! and for my part, I regret the Black Chevalier, with his rough hand and his lusty blows with sword and dagger!"

"My sword and dagger will never fail to respond to a friend's call, and will strike, I trust, as lusty blows as of old! But I must needs know first whether the cause that I defend be just, or whether I am asked to fight to forward some despicable intrigue."

Léodgard drew his heavy eyebrows together, and said in an ironical tone:

"You see, chevalier, you are no longer the same man. You desire now to make inquiries before you fight! Whereas, formerly, you would throw yourself head foremost into the mêlée, without disturbing yourself concerning the motive of the quarrel, and sometimes dealing blows on both sides. You were admirable then."

"Perhaps so.--Yes, I do not deny that I am no longer the same. The hatred that I once felt for the whole human race has vanished and given place to gentler sentiments. When I felt my heart beat again, I realized that all sensibility had not died within me. I have found my heart anew, I have felt sensations which I never expected again to know. And the gloom and despair which consumed me are transformed into touching memories."

"What can have produced this miraculous change in you, I pray to know?"

"A child!"

"A child?"

"Yes. The loss of my daughter made me the man you described so well just now. Another child--an angel like the first--has restored me to myself. This child is not mine; but she is so affectionate, so lovable! Dear little one! she smiles at my caresses, she already manifests affection for me, and I imagine that my own daughter is given back to me!"

"Who is this marvellous child, pray?"

"Yours, count. I am speaking of your daughter, your little Blanche.--Ah! I am entitled to love her, to lavish my affection upon her, for I, representing your father, had the honor to act as her godfather. I tell you again, your daughter is an angel; it is not only the beauty of her features that people admire in her; young as she is, her eyes already have a sweet and gentle expression which charms, attracts one, while her pure and noble brow denotes unusual intelligence!--Do you not wish to see her, count? Will you never imprint a kiss on that angel's brow? You have no suspicion that you possess such a treasure; but I am convinced that to see her for an instant will suffice to make you love her?"

"Was it to tell me all this, to speak to me of that child, that you came hither, chevalier?" asked Léodgard, with a sombre expression.

"You have said it, count: it was for that purpose that I came to this festivity. I was anxious to see you; I had been to your house several times in vain; I thought that I should be more fortunate here."

"If that is so, I regret that you have taken so much trouble. You would have done better not to mix with a company of courtesans and rakes. Frankly, it is not becoming in a man who has renounced Satan."

"Is this the only reply that I can obtain from you, count? Will you not go once at least to see and embrace your daughter? Ah! if you had seen her! if her eyes had rested on yours! if her soft little voice had fallen on your ears! You would agree that all that I have said is far below the truth."

"Chevalier, do not recur to this subject. It is useless for you to attempt to lead me back to a person--whom I do not choose to see. For I understand that the little girl is only a pretext; you talk to me of the child, in order to reconcile me with the mother."

"And if that were true, count? The time is not so far away when I met you one night keeping watch under her windows. Oh! then she was an angel, you adored her, you could not live without her! and to-day----"

"Enough, Jarnonville, enough!"

Léodgard raised his voice as he uttered these last words in an angry tone; and several of the guests, who happened to be walking in that part of the garden, hurried to the spot, thinking that a quarrel was on.

"What is it, messieurs, what's the matter?" asked the Baron de Montrevert, who was one of the first to arrive. "Are you at odds here? What! two excellent friends--Léodgard and the Sire de Jarnonville!"

"No matter!" cried Sénange; "if you need seconds, here we are!"

"But first you must tell us the cause of your falling-out."

"You are mistaken, my masters!" rejoined Léodgard, calm once more. "There is neither quarrel nor falling-out between us; I was talking with the chevalier, and I may have become a little heated and have raised my voice. But we have no inclination to fight, for we have no reason to cease to be friends."

"Oh! that's a pity!" muttered Monclair, walking away. "It would have amused me to see them cross swords."

"He did not choose to tell us the truth," said Montrevert, leading his friends away. "But we are not his dupes. He probably has got wind of Jarnonville's visits to his wife, and he was saying two words to him on the subject."

"In that case, they will fight at the first opportunity."

"That is inevitable!"

"Ah! here is Flavia!"

"And pretty Nadina! Come with us for a stroll, enchantresses!"

The two courtesans to whom these words were addressed turned back toward the salons, saying:

"No, indeed, we will not walk in the gardens with you, seigneurs; you have too pronounced a penchant for the dark paths."

"Besides, I want to dance!" said little Nadina, who was rather stout for her short stature, but who carried her premature embonpoint with such graceful abandon and such a saucy expression that the men felt drawn toward the _Little Ball_, a sobriquet which her female friends had given her.

"She wants to dance, in order to melt her fat!" whispered Flavia to one of the gentlemen.

"Why so? for my part, I think her very comely as she is."

"Bah! one cannot see any figure!"

"I assure you that one can see some very pretty things!"

"As if men knew anything about it!"

"Ah! that remark is characteristic of a woman! They try to captivate, to seduce men, and then they declare that men are not capable of judging them!"

"Messeigneurs," said Camilla, approaching a group of gentlemen, among whom she saw Léodgard and Sénange, "the supper is served under the great arbor of lilacs yonder. If it is your pleasure to serve us as cupbearers, we will take our places at the table.--Come, mesdames."

As she spoke, the fair courtesan led her friends away, and they ran like a swarm of butterflies in the direction of the supper table.

"On my honor, that Spanish costume is marvellously becoming to Camilla!" said Sénange, exalted to the seventh heaven by a smile which the courtesan had bestowed upon him. "I do not believe that it is possible to find a more fascinating woman.--I am going to supper."

"Camilla is certainly very good-looking; I do justice to her attractions," said Montrevert, remaining behind to chat with a number of young men. "But as for saying that there is no more fascinating woman--Sénange goes too far! What would he say if he had seen the young Marquise de Santoval? Ah! she is what I call a beauty that eclipses all others! And, with all Camilla's charms, I will bet that no one would notice her if she stood beside the marchioness!"

"Who is this Marquise de Santoval? where does she come from?" asked Monclair.

"It is plain that you spend all your time in wine shops, Monclair; otherwise, you would know that the Marquis de Santoval married Mademoiselle Valentine de Mongarcin, the daughter of an illustrious family."

"Oh, yes! I remember now.--And it is this young woman who is so beautiful, you say?"

"Montrevert does not exaggerate," said La Valteline. "A few days ago, I was at a ball at Madame de Beaumont's, and the young Marquise de Santoval was there. Her entrance caused a sensation; the whole salon joined in a cry of admiration!--That young woman turned everybody's head. In addition to her beauty, there is an expression on her face which it is impossible to describe--coquetry, pride, languor, irony--and the combination is simply ravishing!"

"Well, well! it would seem that this Santoval is a very lucky man!"

"He is far too much so, messieurs! He is in great danger!"

"The devil! we must take precautions, then. For this husband is a veritable wild boar, supplied with nasty tusks."

"Let us go to supper, messieurs."

"Let us go to supper."

The young men walked away; but Léodgard, who had overheard them, remained seated on a bench under the trees, saying thoughtfully to himself:

"Ah! this Marquise de Santoval, who is said to be so beautiful, is Valentine--the woman whom I was to marry! I hardly noticed her, then! I am curious to know if they tell the truth.--And then, it will distract me, and I need distraction."

And the count walked slowly toward the place where the company was assembled.

As for Jarnonville, he had long since left the courtesan's abode, sorely depressed because his attempt to arouse Léodgard's interest had proved fruitless.

XLI

A GLANCE

A few weeks later, a splendid ball was given by the Prince de Valdimer, a wealthy and luxury-loving foreigner, ambassador of one of the Northern powers.

Every person who imparted any ray of brilliancy to the somewhat dismal court of Louis XIII, every bearer of an illustrious name in France, was bidden to this festivity. The Comte de Marvejols had not been forgotten.

It was hardly possible to move in the salons of the vast mansion which the Prince de Valdimer had hired, and which he had caused to be decorated and illuminated on a most magnificent scale.

The ladies, dressed in rich gowns, were covered with diamonds, pearls, and jewels. The men, who were more coquettish in those days than we are to-day, also wore laces, plumes, and precious stones on their garments.

Then there were the newly rich merchants, the financiers, the farmers-general, who sought to disguise their origin by arraying themselves in sumptuous vestments of gold and silver brocade.

A fact that gave additional importance to this function in the eyes of many persons was that it was said that the Cardinal de Richelieu had promised to attend.

The crowd was therefore so great that one sometimes had to wait a long while before going from one room to another, if one did not wish to be suffocated.

A young woman of rare beauty, holding her elegant figure gracefully erect, and leaning on the arm of a man of forty, whose face wore a severe but noble expression, led her escort into a window recess as if in search of air, saying:

"In heaven's name, monsieur le marquis, let us not mingle with that crowd; let us wait here a moment, where we may perhaps be able to breathe! Mon Dieu! what a multitude of people! the whole court and the whole city are at this fête!"

"If you dread the heat, if this crowded hall has no charms for you, Valentine, we will go away."

"Oh, no! I wish to stay; it is a very brilliant affair; but I would like to rest a moment here."

"As you please."

"Why, here is Monsieur le Marquis de Santoval!" cried a little hunchbacked old man, who held his head erect, however, and whose eyes were instinct with cunning and good humor, addressing the escort of the lady who had taken refuge in the window recess; "have I the honor of saluting madame la marquise?"

"Yes, my dear De Noirteuil," replied Monsieur de Santoval, shaking hands with the little old man.

"Ah! present me, I pray you."

"Madame, allow me to present Monsieur de Noirteuil, a gentleman from the South--like myself; moreover, a clever diplomatist who has often placed his talents at the service of his country, and always with success."

"What would you have--I had nothing else to offer my country; it would have none of my person!--But allow me to congratulate you, Santoval! You are a lucky mortal, 'pon my honor! I have heard your wife's beauty extolled, but I see that what I have heard is far below the truth!"

"You are gallant, as always, De Noirteuil!"

"At this moment I am simply the echo of what is said on every side.--What think you of this fête, _belle dame_? a little crowded, is it not?"

"Why, monsieur, it seems to me to be very brilliant, very splendid!"

"Humph! too many people! That is the way with these foreigners; when they want to give a fête, they invite and invite! they would do much better to make a selection, to sort people out."

"What! do you mean to say that you have seen anybody who is out of place here?"

"I do not say that; still, after all, he might well have invited a smaller number."

"They say that the cardinal is coming."

"That is possible; but it is all the same to me--I don't care about seeing him, I have no request to make of him. He has just organized two companies of _mousquetaires_, but I fancy that he will not appoint me to a captaincy. Ha! ha!"

"Still fond of your laugh, my dear De Noirteuil!"

"Ah! I must have something, you know, marquis! Now, you possess an enchanting wife, and I, my gayety! I never had any other companion; but it has its good points.--Mon Dieu! what do I see? What miracle is this? Is it really he? Yes, it is himself, on my word!"

"Of whom are you speaking, De Noirteuil?"

"Of that young cavalier whom I see yonder, at the entrance of the gallery; dressed in the extreme of fashion, with princely magnificence! But he carries it well, vrai Dieu! He is a very pretty fellow, that Léodgard de Marvejols!"

"Ah! you are speaking of the Comte de Marvejols?--What is the matter, Valentine? do you feel ill?"

"I, monsieur? not in the least. Why do you ask me that?"

"Because it seemed to me that your arm suddenly rested very heavily on mine.--I am happy that my alarm was unfounded."

"I uttered that exclamation of surprise," continued the hunchback, "because it is a long while since young Marvejols has been seen at any ball or party; he has ceased entirely to go to court; in short, between us, he is looked upon as a regular _mauvais sujet_, who frequents only courtesans and low gambling hells!"

"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!"

Léodgard, 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 Léodgard 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, Léodgard had fixed his eyes on Valentine, who, in her turn, fixed hers upon him. This reciprocal glance lasted only an instant, but what a multitude 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 noble 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 Léodgard'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, Léodgard 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 Léodgard is here?"

"Quite true; I spoke to him just now."

"Do you know that Sénange 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 Léodgard; 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 Léodgard has not had a quarrel with Sénange; 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!"

Léodgard had turned his back on Valentine, still fascinated by her glance, by her beauty which had disturbed his senses, by her charming and noble carriage, by the grace with which she wore her splendid costume, and, lastly, by the change which the title 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?"

Léodgard 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 Léodgard.

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 nobody in the whole assemblage but that woman, a single glance from whose eyes had sufficed to set his heart on fire. All the passing, 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 Léodgard's arm; the latter angrily roused himself from his contemplation and muttered: