CHAPTER XVII

THE ADIEUX

Létorière entered.

The surprise of the four spectators was at its height; they stood petrified, and looked at each other with astonishment.

The Marquis was dressed with the most remarkable elegance. He wore a coat of sky-blue velvet, embroidered with gold and silver leaves of extreme delicacy; his vest of silver cloth was spangled with gold, as were also his small-clothes, of the same color as his coat; his rose-colored silk stockings were clocked with gold; his shoes had red heels; a sword mounted in gold, covered with ornaments of silver, most beautifully wrought; a shoulder-knot of blue, silver, and gold, and a chapeau, with white plumes, which the Marquis held in his hand, completed this magnificent costume.

This complete metamorphosis had already upset all their conjectures, or rather confounded all the recollections of the councillors and Martha; but what still more excited their astonishment, was the impossibility of finding in Létorière's face any of the expressions which had struck them individually.

Thus, in this charming gentleman so magnificently dressed, with an air at once spiritual and malicious, with such elegant manners and such perfect grace, although it was a little effeminate, the baron could not recognize his uncouth huntsman, so careless and _negligé_; . . . the doctor sought in vain his learned grammarian, who looked like a half-starved poet; and Madame Martha as futilely tried to see in the black and brilliant eyes of the Marquis, the timid and downcast look of the youthful quoter of Scripture.

Létorière felt the necessity of putting an end to the amazement of his judges. He saluted them profoundly, and said:

"May I be permitted, gentlemen, here to express to you my profound gratitude, and to declare it to each of you?"

The three Germans looked at each other in dismay, and awaited in silence the termination of this strange scene.

Létorière advanced towards Madame Flachsinfingen. Taking her hand with a movement of the most amiable gallantry, he raised it to his lips, and said to her in a sweet and grave voice: "I knew beforehand, madame, that in order to merit your interest, to reach the level of your noble character, it would be necessary to have, like you, a pure and religious soul . . . in showing myself to you under this exterior, I have not deceived. I did, for a moment, borrow your language, madame; and believe me, it is too noble and too beautiful for me ever to forget it. . . ." And he saluted her respectfully.

"As for you, Monsieur le Baron, in order to prove to you that I am still worthy to take part in the brotherhood of joyful huntsmen, I can do no better way than to beg you to come next year to pass St. Hubert at my castle of Obbreuse. . . . If you will deign to accompany him," said the Marquis to Dr. Sphex, "we will continue our commentaries on our favorite poet. In short, gentlemen, formerly I liked the chase, reading the ancient poets and the Scripture merely from inclination . . . but now I shall like them from the remembrance of your precious interest." . . .

Thus speaking, Létorière saluted the three councillors, who remained dumb, and went out.

Radiant with this success, which made his marriage with Mademoiselle de Soissons sure, Létorière went home, where he found a note which the princess had sent to him by a courier:

"_The King is dying. . . . My liberty, our future, are threatened. . . . Come! come!_" . . .

Sinking from the highest hope to the depths of anguish, the Marquis instantly started for Paris.