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  CHAPTER IX. A MELEE AND A DUEL

  The rehearsal was over, and the comedians were preparing to return totheir hotel; de Sigognac, expecting some sort of an assault on his waythrough the deserted streets, did not lay aside Matamore's big swordwith the rest of his costume. It was an excellent Spanish blade, verylong, and with a large basket hilt, which made a perfect protection forthe hand--altogether a weapon which, wielded by a brave man, was by nomeans to be despised, and which could give, as well as parry, good hardthrusts. Though scarcely able to inflict a mortal wound, as the pointand edge had been blunted, according to the usual custom of theatricalsword owners, it would be, however, all that was requisite to defend itswearer against the cudgels of the ruffians that the Duke of Vallombreusehad despatched to administer his promised punishment. Herode, who alsoanticipated an attack upon de Sigognac, and was not one to desert afriend when danger threatened, took the precaution to arm himselfwith the big heavy club that was used to give the signal--three loudraps--for the rising of the curtain, which made a very formidableweapon, and would do good service in his strong hands.

  "Captain," said he to the baron as they quitted the tennis-court, "wewill let the women go on a little way in advance of us, under the escortof Blazius and Leander, one of whom is too old, the other too cowardly,to be of any service to us in case of need. And we don't want to havetheir fair charges terrified, and deafening us with their shrieks.Scapin shall accompany us, for he knows a clever trick or two fortripping a man up, that I have seen him perform admirably in severalwrestling bouts. He will lay one or two of our assailants flat on theirbacks for us before they can turn round. In any event here is my goodclub, to supplement your good sword."

  "Thanks, my brave friend Herode," answered de Sigognac, "your kind offeris not one to be refused; but let us take our precautions not to besurprised, though we are in force. We will march along in single file,through the very middle of the street, so that these rogues, lurking indark corners, will have to emerge from their hiding places to come outto us, and we shall be able to see them before they can strike us. Iwill draw my sword, you brandish your club, and Scapin must cut a pigeonwing, so as to make sure that his legs are supple and in good workingorder. Now, forward march!"

  He put himself at the head of the little column, and advanced cautiouslyinto the narrow street that led from the tennis-court to the hotel ofthe Armes de France, which was very crooked, badly paved, devoid oflamps, and capitally well calculated for an ambuscade. The overhanginggable-ends on either side of the way made the darkness in the streetbelow them still more dense--a most favourable circumstance for theruffians lying in wait there. Not a single ray of light streamed forthfrom the shut-up house whose inmates were presumably all sleepingsoundly in their comfortable beds, and there was no moon that night.Basque, Azolan, Labriche and Merindol had been waiting more than half anhour for Captain Fracasse in this street, which they knew he was obligedto pass through in returning to his hotel. They had disposed themselvesin pairs on opposite sides of the way, so that when he was between themtheir clubs could all play upon him together, like the hammers ofthe Cyclops on their great anvil. The passing of the group of women,escorted by Blazius and Leander, none of whom perceived them, hadwarned them of the approach of their victim, and they stood awaiting hisappearance, firmly grasping their cudgels in readiness to pounce uponhim; little dreaming of the reception in store for them--for ordinarily,indeed one may say invariably, the poets, actors, bourgeois, andsuch-like, whom the nobles condescended to have cudgeled by their hiredruffians, employed expressly for that purpose, took their chastisementmeekly, and without attempting to make any resistance. Despite theextreme darkness of the night, the baron, with his penetrating eyes,made out the forms of the four villains lying in wait for him, at somedistance, and before he came up with them stopped and made as if hemeant to turn back--which ruse deceived them completely--and fearingthat their prey was about to escape them, they rushed impetuously forthfrom their hiding places towards him. Azolan was the first, closelyfollowed by the others, and all crying at the tops of their voices,"Kill! Kill! this for Captain Fracasse, from the Duke of Vallombreuse."Meantime de Sigognac had wound his large cloak several times roundhis left arm for a shield, and receiving upon it the first blow fromAzolan's cudgel, returned it with such a violent lunge, full in hisantagonist's breast, that the miserable fellow went over backward,with great force, right into the gutter running down the middle of thestreet, with his head in the mud and his heels in the air. If the pointof the sword had not been blunted, it would infallibly have gone throughhis body, and come out between his shoulder-blades, leaving a dead man,instead of only a stunned one, on the ground. Basque, in spite of hiscomrade's disaster, advanced to the charge bravely, but a furious blowon his head, with the flat of the blade, sent him down like a shot, andmade him see scores of stars, though there was not one visible in thesky that night. The tyrant's club encountering Merindol's cudgel brokeit short off, and the latter finding himself disarmed, took to hisheels; not however without receiving a tremendous blow on the shoulderbefore he could get out of Herode's reach. Scapin, for his part, hadseized Labriche suddenly round the waist from behind, pinning down hisarms so that he could not use his club at all, and raising him from theground quickly, with one dexterous movement tripped him up, and sent himrolling on the pavement ten paces off, so violently that he was knockedsenseless--the back of his neck coming in contact with a projectingstone--and lay apparently lifeless where he fell.

  So the way was cleared, and the victory in this fierce encounter washonourably gained by our hero and his two companions over the foursturdy ruffians, who had never been defeated before. They were in asorry plight--Azolan and Basque creeping stealthily away, on their handsand knees, trying under cover of the darkness to put themselves beyondthe reach of further danger; Labriche lying motionless, like a drunkenman, across the gutter, and Merindol, less badly hurt, flying towardshome as fast as his legs could carry him. As he drew near the house,however, he slackened his pace, for he dreaded the duke's anger morethan Herode's club, and almost forgot, for the moment, the terribleagony from his dislocated shoulder, from which the arm hung downhelpless and inert. Scarcely had he entered the outer door ere he wassummoned to the presence of the duke, who was all impatient to learn thedetails of the tremendous thrashing that, he took it for granted, theyhad given to Captain Fracasse. When Merindol was ushered in, frightenedand embarrassed, trembling in every limb, not knowing what to say ordo, and suffering fearfully from his injured shoulder, he paused at thethreshold, and stood speechless and motionless, waiting breathlessly fora word or gesture of encouragement from the duke, who glared at him insilence.

  "Well," at length said the Chevalier de Vidalinc to the discomfitedMerindol, seeing that Vallombreuse only stared at him savagely and didnot seem inclined to speak, "what news do you bring us? Bad, I amsure, for you have by no means a triumphant air--very much the reverse,indeed, I should say."

  "My lord, the duke, of course cannot doubt our zeal in striving toexecute his orders, to the best of our ability," said Merindol,cringingly, "but this time we have had very bad luck."

  "What do you mean by that?" asked the duke sharply, with an angry frownand flashing eyes, before which the stout ruffian quailed. "There werefour of you! do you mean to tell me that, among you, you could notsucceed in thrashing this miserable play-actor?"

  "That miserable play-actor, my lord," Merindol replied, plucking up alittle courage, "far exceeds in vigour and bravery the great Herculesthey tell us of. He fell upon us with such fury that in one instant hehad knocked Azolan and Basque down into the gutter. They fell under hisblows like pasteboard puppets--yet they are both strong men, and usedto hard knocks. Labriche was tripped up and cleverly thrown by anotheractor, and fell with such force that he was completely stunned; theback of his head has found out that the stones of Poitiers pavementsare harder than it is, poor fellow! As for me, my thick club was brokenshort off by an immense stick in the hands of that gi
ant they callHerode, and my shoulder so badly hurt that I sha'n't have the use of myarm here for a fortnight."

  "You are no better than so many calves, you pitiful, cowardly knaves!"cried the Duke of Vallombreuse, in a perfect frenzy of rage. "Why, anyold woman could put you to rout with her distaff, and not half try.I made a horrid mistake when I rescued you from the galleys and thegallows, and took you into my service, believing that you were braverascals, and not afraid of anything or anybody on the face of the globe.And now, answer me this: When you found that clubs would not do, whydidn't you whip out your swords and have at him?"

  "My lord had given us orders for a beating, not an assassination, and wewould not have dared to go beyond his commands."

  "Behold," cried Vidalinc, laughing contemptuously, "behold a faithful,exact and conscientious scoundrel whose obedience does not deviate somuch as a hair's breadth from his lord's commands. How delightful andrefreshing to find such purity and fidelity, combined with such rarecourage, in the character of a professional cut-throat! But now,Vallombreuse, what do you think of all this? This chase of yours openswell, and romantically, in a manner that must be immensely pleasingto you, since you find the pursuit agreeable in proportion to itsdifficulty, and the obstacles in the way constitute its greatest charmsfor you. I ought to congratulate you, it seems to me. This Isabelle,for an actress, is not easy of access; she dwells in a fortress, withoutdrawbridge or other means of entrance, and guarded, as we read of in thehistory of ancient chivalry, by dragons breathing out flames of fire andsmoke. But here comes our routed army."

  Azolan, Basque, and Labriche, who had recovered from his swoon, nowpresented themselves reluctantly at the door, and stood extending theirhands supplicatingly towards their master. They were a miserable-lookingset of wretches enough--very pale, fairly livid indeed, haggard, dirtyand blood-stained; for although they had only contused wounds, the forceof the blows had set the blood flowing from their noses, and great redstains disfigured their hideous countenances.

  "Get to your kennel, ye hounds!" cried the duke, in a terrible voice,being moved only to anger by the sight of this forlorn group ofsupplicants. "I'm sure I don't know why I have not ordered you allsoundly thrashed for your imbecility and cowardice. I shall send you mysurgeon to examine your wounds, and see whether the thumps you make sucha babyish outcry about really were as violent and overpowering asyou represent. If they were not, I will have you skinned alive, everymother's son of you, like the eels at Melun; and now, begone! out of mysight, quick, you vile canaille!" The discomfited ruffians turned andfled, thankful to make their escape, and forgetful for the moment oftheir painful wounds and bruises; such abject terror did the youngduke's anger inspire in the breasts of those hardened villains. When thepoor devils had disappeared, Vallombreuse threw himself down on a heapof cushions, piled up on a low, broad divan beside the fire, and fellinto a revery that Vidalinc was careful not to break in upon.They evidently were not pleasant thoughts that occupied him; dark,tempestuous ones rather, judging by the expression of his handsome face,as he lay back idly among the soft pillows, looking very picturesque inthe rich showy costume he still wore. He did not remain there long. Onlya short time had elapsed when he suddenly started up, with a smotheredimprecation, and bidding his friend an abrupt good-night, retired tohis own chamber, without touching the dainty little supper that hadjust been brought in. Vidalinc sat down and enjoyed it by himself, withperfect good humour, thinking meanwhile of Serafina's remarkable beautyand amiability, with which he was highly charmed, and not neglectingto drink her health in the duke's choice wine ere he quitted the table,and, following his example, retired to his own room, where he sleptsoundly, dreaming of Serafina, until morning; while Vallombreuse, lessfortunate, and still haunted by disturbing thoughts, tossed restlessly,and turned from side to side, courting sleep in vain, under the richsilken hangings drawn round his luxurious bed.

  When de Sigognac, the tyrant and Scapin reached the Armes de France,after having overcome the serious obstacles in their way, they found theothers in a terrible state of alarm about them. In the stillness of thenight they had distinctly heard the loud cries of the duke's ruffians,and the noise of the fierce combat, and feared that their poor friendswere being murdered. Isabelle, nearly frantic in her terror lest herlover should be overpowered and slain, tried to rush back to him, neverremembering that she would be more of a hindrance than a help; but atthe first step she had again almost fainted away, and would have fallenupon the rough pavement but for Blazius and Zerbine, who, each takingan arm, supported her between them the rest of the way to the hotel Whenthey reached it at last, she refused to go to her own room, but waitedwith the others at the outer door for news of their comrades, fearingthe worst, yet prayerfully striving to hope for the best. At sight of deSigognac--who, alarmed at her extreme pallor, hastened anxiously toher side--she impetuously raised her arms to heaven, as a low cry ofthanksgiving escaped her lips, and letting them fall around his neck,for one moment hid her streaming eyes against his shoulder; but quicklyregaining her self-control, she withdrew herself gently from thedetaining arm that had fondly encircled her slender, yielding form, andstepping back from him a little, resumed with a strong effort her usualreserve and quiet dignity.

  "And you are not wounded or hurt?" she asked, in her sweetest tones,her face glowing with happiness as she caught his reassuring gesture;he could not speak yet for emotion. The clasp of her arms round his neckhad been like a glimpse of heaven to him a moment of divine ecstasy."Ah! if he could only snatch her to his breast and hold her thereforever," he was thinking, "close to the heart that beat for her alone,"as she continued: "If the slightest harm had befallen you, because ofme, I should have died of grief. But, oh! how imprudent you were, todefy that handsome, wicked duke, who has the assurance and the pride ofLucifer himself, for the sake of a poor, insignificant girl like me. Youwere not reasonable, de Sigognac! Now that you are a comedian, likethe rest of us, you must learn to put up with certain impertinences andannoyances, without attempting to resent them."

  "I never will," said de Sigognac, finding his voice at last, "I swearit, I never will permit an affront to be offered to the adorableIsabelle in my presence even when I have on my player's mask."

  "Well spoken, captain," cried Herode, "well spoken, and bravely. I wouldnot like to be the man to incur your wrath. By the powers above! whata fierce reception you gave those rascals yonder. It was lucky forthem that poor Matamore's sword had no edge. If it had been sharp andpointed, you would have cleft them from head to heels, clean in two, asthe ancient knight-errants did the Saracens, and wicked enchanters."

  "Your club did as much execution as my sword, Herode, and yourconscience need not reproach you, for they were not innocents that youslaughtered this time."

  "No, indeed!" the tyrant rejoined, with a mighty laugh, "the flower ofthe galleys these--the cream of gallows-birds."

  "Such jobs would scarcely be undertaken by any other class of fellowsyou know," de Sigognac said; "but we must not neglect to make Scapin'svaliant deeds known, and praise them as they deserve. He fought andconquered without the aid of any other arms than those that nature gavehim."

  Scapin, who was a natural buffoon, acknowledged this encomium with avery low obeisance--his eyes cast down, his hand on his heart--and withsuch an irresistibly comical affectation of modesty and embarrassmentthat they all burst into a hearty laugh, which did them much good afterthe intense excitement and alarm.

  After this, as it was late, the comedians bade each other good-night,and retired to their respective rooms; excepting de Sigognac, whoremained for a while in the court, walking slowly back and forth,cogitating deeply. The actor was avenged, but the gentleman was not.Must he then throw aside the mask that concealed his identity, proclaimhis real name, make a commotion, and run the risk of drawing down uponhis comrades the anger of a powerful nobleman? Prudence said no, buthonour said yes. The baron could not resist its imperious voice, andthe moment that he decided to obey it he directed his step
s towardsZerbine's room.

  He knocked gently at the door, which was opened cautiously, a verylittle way at first, by a servant, who instantly admitted the unexpectedguest when he saw who it was.

  The large room was brilliantly lighted, with many rose-coloured waxcandles in two handsome candelabra on a table covered with fine damask,on which smoked a dainty supper. Game and various other delicacies werethere, most temptingly served. One crystal decanter, with sprigs of goldscattered over its shining surface, was filled with wine rivalling theruby in depth and brilliancy of hue, while that in the other was clearand yellow as a topaz. Only two places had been laid on this festiveboard, and opposite Zerbine sat the Marquis de Bruyeres, of whom deSigognac was in search. The soubrette welcomed him warmly, with agraceful mingling of the actress's familiarity with her comrade with herrespect for the gentleman.

  "It is very charming of you to come and join us here, in our cosy littlenest," said the marquis to de Sigognac, with much cordiality, "andwe are right glad to welcome you. Jacques, lay a place for thisgentleman--you will sup with us?"

  "I will accept your kind invitation," de Sigognac replied; "but not forthe sake of the supper. I do not wish to interfere with your enjoyment,and nothing is so disagreeable for those at table as a looker-on who isnot eating with them."

  The baron accordingly sat down in the arm-chair rolled up for him by theservant, beside Zerbine and opposite the marquis, who helped him to someof the partridge he had been carving, and filled his wine-glass for him;all without asking any questions as to what brought him there, or evenhinting at it. But he felt sure that it must be something of importancethat had caused the usually reserved and retiring young nobleman to takesuch a step as this.

  "Do you like this red wine best or the other?" asked the marquis. "Asfor me, I drink some of both, so that there may be no jealous feelingbetween them."

  "I prefer the red wine, thank you," de Sigognac said, with a smile, "andwill add a little water to it. I am very temperate by nature and habit,and mingle a certain devotion to the nymphs with my worship at theshrine of Bacchus, as the ancients had it. But it was not for feastingand drinking that I was guilty of the indiscretion of intruding upon youat this unseemly hour. Marquis, I have come to ask of you a servicethat one gentleman never refuses to another. Mlle. Zerbine has probablyrelated to you something of what took place in the green-room thisevening. The Duke of Vallombreuse made an attempt to lay hands uponIsabelle, under pretext of placing an assassine for her, and was guiltyof an insolent, outrageous, and brutal action, unworthy of a gentleman,which was not justified by any coquetry or advances on the part of thatyoung girl, who is as pure as she is modest and for whom I feel thehighest respect and esteem."

  "And she deserves it," said Zerbine heartily, "every word you sayof her, as I, who know her thoroughly, can testify. I could not sayanything but good of her, even if I would."

  "I seized the duke's arm, and stopped him before he had succeeded inwhat he meant to do," continued de Sigognac, after a grateful glance atthe soubrette; "he was furiously angry, and assailed me with threats andinvectives, to which I replied with a mocking sang-froid, from behind mystage mask. He declared he would have me thrashed by his lackeys, andin effect, as I was coming back to this house, a little while ago, fourruffians fell upon me in the dark, narrow street. A couple of blows withthe flat of my sword did for two of the rascals, while Herode andScapin put the other two hors-de-combat in fine style. Although the dukeimagined that only a poor actor was concerned, yet as there is also agentleman in that actor's skin, such an outrage cannot be committed withimpunity. You know me, marquis, though up to the present moment you havekindly and delicately respected my incognito, for which I thank you. Youknow who and what my ancestors were, and can certify that the family ofde Sigognac has been noble for more than a thousand years, and that notone who has borne the name has ever had a blot on his scutcheon."

  "Baron de Sigognac," said the marquis, addressing him for the first timeby his own name, "I will bear witness, upon my honour, before whomsoeveryou may choose to name, to the antiquity and nobility of your family.Palamede de Sigognac distinguished himself by wonderful deeds of valourin the first crusade, to which he led a hundred lances, equipped, andtransported thither, at his own expense. That was at an epoch when theancestors of some of the proudest nobles of France to-day were not evensquires. He and Hugues de Bruyeres, my own ancestor, were warm friends,and slept in the same tent as brothers in arms."

  At these glorious reminiscences de Sigognac raised his head proudly, andheld it high; he felt the pure blood of his ancestors throbbing in hisveins, and his heart beat tumultuously. Zerbine, who was watching him,was surprised at the strange inward beauty--if the expression may beallowed--that seemed to shine through the young baron's ordinarily sadcountenance, and illuminate it. "These nobles," she said to herself,"are certainly a race by themselves; they look as if they had sprungfrom the side of Jupiter, not been born into the world like ordinarymortals. At the least word their pride is up in arms, and transformsthem, as it does the Baron de Sigognae now. If he should make love tome, with eyes like those, I simply could not resist him; I should haveto throw over my marquis. Why, he fairly glows with heroism; he isgod-like."

  Meantime de Sigognac, in blissful ignorance of this ardent admiration,which would have been so distasteful to him, was saying to the marquis,"Such being your opinion of my family, you will not, I fancy, object tocarry a challenge from me to the Duke of Vallombreuse."

  "Assuredly I will do it for you," answered the marquis, in a grave,measured way, widely different from his habitual good-natured, easycarelessness of manner and speech; "and, moreover, I offer my ownservices as your second. To-morrow morning I will present myself atthe duke's night in your behalf; there is one thing to be said in hisfavour--that although he may be, in fact is, very insolent, he is nocoward, and he will no longer intrench himself behind his dignity whenhe is made acquainted with your real rank. But enough of this subjectfor the present; I will see you to-morrow morning in good season, and wewill not weary poor Zerbine any longer with our man's talk of affairs ofhonour. I can plainly see that she is doing her best to suppress a yawn,and we would a great deal rather that a smile should part her pretty redlips, and disclose to us the rows of pearls within. Come, Zerbine, fillthe Baron de Sigognac's glass, and let us be merry again."

  The soubrette obeyed, and with as much grace and dexterity as if she hadbeen Hebe in person; everything that she attempted to do she did well,this clever little actress.

  The conversation became animated, and did not touch upon any othergrave subject, but was mainly about Zerbine's own acting--the marquisoverwhelming her with compliments upon it, in which de Sigognac couldtruthfully and sincerely join him, for the soubrette had reallyshown incomparable spirit, grace, and talent. They also talked of theproductions of M. de Scudery--who was one of the most brilliant writersof the day--which the marquis declared that he considered perfect, butslightly soporific; adding that he, for his part, decidedly preferredthe Rodomontades of Captain Fracasse to Lygdamon et Lydias--he was agentleman of taste, the marquis!

  As soon as he could do so without an actual breach of politeness, deSigognac took his leave, and retiring to his own chamber locked himselfin; then took an ancient sword out of the woollen case in which he keptit to preserve it from rust--his father's sword--which he had broughtwith him from home, as a faithful friend and ally. He drew it slowly outof the scabbard, kissing the hilt with fervent affection and respect ashe did so, for to him it was sacred. It was a handsome weapon, richly,but not too profusely, ornamented--a sword for service, not for show;its blade of bluish steel, upon which a few delicate lines of gold weretraced, bore the well-known mark of one of the most celebrated armourersof Toledo. The young baron examined the edge critically, drawing hisfingers lightly over it, and then, resting the point against the door,bent it nearly double to test its elasticity. The noble blade stood thetrial right valiantly, and there was no fear of its betraying its m
asterin the hour of need. Delighted to have it in his hand again, and excitedby the thought of what was in store for it and himself, de Sigognacbegan to fence vigorously against the wall, and to practise the variusthrusts and passes that his faithful old Pierre, who was a famousswordsman, had taught him at Castle Misery. They had been in the habitof spending hours every day in these lessons, glad of some activeoccupation, and the exercise had developed the young baron's frame,strengthened his muscles, and greatly augmented his natural supplenessand agility. He was passionately fond of and had thoroughly studied thenoble art of fencing, and, while he believed himself to be still only ascholar, had long been a master in it--a proficient, such as is rarelyto be found, even in the great cities. A better instructor than oldPierre he could not have had--not in Paris itself--and buried though hehad been in the depths of the country, entirely isolated, and deprivedof all the usual advantages enjoyed by young men of his rank, he yethad become, though perfectly unconscious of it, a match for the mostcelebrated swordsmen in France--that is to say, in the world--ableto measure blades with the best of them. He may not have had all theelegant finish, and the many little airs and graces affected bythe young sprigs of nobility and polished men of fashion in theirsword-play, but skilful indeed must be the blade that could penetratewithin the narrow circle of flashing steel in which he intrenchedhimself. Finding, after a long combat with an imaginary foe, that hishand had not lost its cunning, and satisfied at length both with himselfand with his sword, which he placed near his bedside, de Sigognac wassoon sleeping soundly, and as quietly as if he had never even dreamedof sending a challenge to that lofty and puissant nobleman, the Duke ofVallombreuse.

  Isabelle meanwhile could not close her eyes, because of her anxietyabout the young baron. She knew that he would not allow the matter torest where it was, and she dreaded inexpressibly the consequences of aquarrel with the duke; but the idea of endeavouring to prevent aduel never even occurred to her. In those days affairs of honour wereregarded as sacred things, that women did not dream of interferingwith, or rendering more trying to their near and dear ones by tears andlamentations, in anticipation of the danger to be incurred by them.

  At nine o'clock the next morning, the Marquis de Bruyeres was astir, andwent to look up de Sigognae, whom he found in his own room, in orderto regulate with him the conditions of the duel. The baron asked him totake with him, in case of incredulity, or refusal of his challenge, onthe duke's part, the old deeds and ancient parchments, to which largeseals were suspended, the commissions of various sorts with royalsignatures in faded ink, the genealogical tree of the de Sigognacs, andin fact all his credentials, which he had brought away from the chateauwith him as his most precious treasures; for they were indisputablewitnesses to the nobility and antiquity of his house. These valuabledocuments, with their strange old Gothic characters, scarcelydecipherable save by experts, were carefully wrapped up in a piece offaded crimson silk, which looked as if it might have been part of thevery banner borne by Palamede de Sigognac at the head of his hundredfollowers in the first crusade.

  "I do not believe," said the marquis, "that these credentials will benecessary; my word should be sufficient; it has never yet been doubted.However, as it is possible that this hot-headed young duke may persistin recognising only Captain Fracasse in your person, I will let myservant accompany me and carry them for me to his house, in case Ishould deem it best to produce them."

  "You must do whatever you think proper and right," de Sigognac answered;"I have implicit confidence in your judgment, and leave my honour inyour hands, without a condition or reservation."

  "It will be safe with me, I do solemnly assure you," said the Marquis deBruyeres earnestly, "and we will have satisfaction yet from this proudyoung nobleman, whose excessive insolence and outrageously imperiousways are more than a little offensive to me, as well as to many others.He is no better than the rest of us, whose blood is as ancient and nobleas his own, nor does his ducal coronet entitle him to the superiority hearrogates to himself so disagreeably. But we won't talk any more aboutit--we must act now. Words are feminine, but actions are masculine, andoffended honour can only be appeased with blood, as the old saying hasit."

  Whereupon the marquis called his servant, consigned the precious packet,with an admonition, to his care, and followed by him set off on hismission of defiance. The duke, who had passed a restless, wakeful night,and only fallen asleep towards morning, was not yet up when the Marquisde Bruyeres, upon reaching his house, told the servant who admitted himto announce him immediately to his master. The valet was aghast at theenormity of this demand, which was expressed in rather a peremptorytone. What! disturb the duke! before he had called for him! it would beas much as his life was worth to do it; he would as soon venture unarmedinto the cage of a furious lion, or the den of a royal tiger. The dukewas always more or less surly and ill-tempered on first waking in themorning, even when he had gone to bed in a good humour, as his servantsknew to their cost.

  "Your lordship had much better wait a little while, or call again laterin the day," said the valet persuasively, in answer to the marquis. "Mylord, the duke, has not summoned me yet, and I would not dare--"

  "Go this instant to your master and announce the Marquis de Bruyeres,"interrupted that gentleman, in loud, angry tones, "or I will force thedoor and admit myself to his presence. I MUST speak to him, and that atonce, on important business, in which your master's honour is involved."

  "Ah! that makes a difference," said the servant, promptly, "why didn'tyour lordship mention it in the first place? I will go and tell my lord,the duke, forthwith; he went to bed in such a furious, blood-thirstymood last night that I am sure he will be enchanted at the prospect of aduel this morning--delighted to have a pretext for fighting."

  And the man went off with a resolute air, after respectfully begging themarquis to be good enough to wait a few minutes. At the noise he made inopening the door of his master's bedroom, though he endeavoured to do itas softly as possible, Vallombreuse, who was only dozing, started up inbed, broad awake, and looked round fiercely for something to throw athis head.

  "What the devil do you mean by this?" he cried savagely. "Haven't Iordered you never to come in here until I called for you? You shall havea hundred lashes for this, you scoundrel, I promise you; and you needn'twhine and beg for mercy either, for you'll get none from me. I'd like toknow how I am to go to sleep again now?"

  "My lord may have his faithful servant lashed to death, if it so pleasehis lordship," answered the valet, with abject respect, "but thoughI have dared to transgress my lord's orders, it is not without a goodreason. His lordship, the Marquis de Bruyeres, is below, asking to speakwith my lord, the duke, on important business, relating to an affair ofhonour, and I know that my lord never denies himself to any gentleman onsuch occasions, but always receives visits of that sort, at any time ofday or night."

  "The Marquis de Bruyeres!" said the duke, surprised, "have I anyquarrel with him? I don't recollect a difference between us ever; andbesides, it's an age since I've seen him. Perhaps he imagines that Iwant to steal his dear Zerbine's heart away from him; lovers are alwaysfancying that everybody else is enamoured of their own particularfavourites. Here, Picard, give me my dressing-gown, and draw thosecurtains round the bed, so as to hide its disorder; make haste about it,do you hear? we must not keep the worthy marquis waiting anotherminute."

  Picard bustled about, and brought to his master a magnificentdressing-gown-made, after the Venetian fashion, of rich stuff, witharabesques of black velvet on a gold ground--which he slipped on, andtied round the waist with a superb cord and tassels; then, seatinghimself in an easychair, told Picard to admit his early visitor.

  "Good morning, my dear marquis," said the young duke smilingly, halfrising to salute his guest as he entered. "I am very glad to see you,whatever your errand may be. Picard, a chair for his lordship! Excuseme, I pray you, for receiving you so unceremoniously here in my bedroom,which is still in disorder, and do not look upon it a
s a lack ofcivility, but rather as a mark of my regard for you. Picard said thatyou wished to see me immediately."

  "I must beg you to pardon me, my dear duke," the marquis hastened toreply, "for insisting so strenuously upon disturbing your repose, andcutting short perhaps some delicious dream; but I am charged to see youupon a mission, which, among gentlemen, will not brook delay."

  "You excite my curiosity to the highest degree," said Vallombreuse, "andI cannot even imagine what this urgent business may be about."

  "I suppose it is not unlikely, my lord," rejoined the marquis, "that youhave forgotten certain occurrences that took place last evening. Suchtrifling matters are not apt to make a very deep impression, so withyour permission I will recall them to your mind. In the so-calledgreen-room, down at the tennis-court, you deigned to honour withyour particular notice a young person, Isabelle by name, and witha playfulness that I, for my part, do not consider criminal, youendeavoured to place an assassine for her, just above her white bosom,complimenting her upon its fairness as you did so. This proceeding,which I do not criticise, greatly shocked and incensed a certain actorstanding by, called Captain Fracasse, who rushed forward and seized yourarm."

  "Marquis, you are the most faithful and conscientious ofhistoriographers," interrupted Vallombreuse. "That is all true, everyword of it, and to finish the narrative I will add that I promised therascal, who was as insolent as a noble, a sound thrashing at the handsof my lackeys; the most appropriate chastisement I could think of, for alow fellow of that sort."

  "No one can blame you for that, my dear duke, for there is certainlyno very great harm in having a play-actor--or writer either, for thatmatter--thoroughly thrashed, if he has had the presumption to offend,"said the marquis, with a contemptuous shrug; "such cattle are not worththe value of the sticks broken over their backs. But this is a differentcase altogether. Under the mask of Captain Fracasse--who, by the way,routed your ruffians in superb style--is the Baron de Sigognac; anobleman of the old school, the head of one of the best families we havein Gascony; one that has been above reproach for many centuries."

  "What the devil is he doing in this troupe of strolling players, pray?"asked the Duke of Vallombreuse, with some heat, toying nervously withthe cord and tassels of his dressing-gown as he spoke. "Could I beexpected to divine that there was a de Sigognac hidden under thatgrotesque costume, and behind that absurd false nose?"

  "As to your first question," the marquis replied, "I can answer it inone word--Isabelle. Between ourselves, I believe that the young baron isdesperately in love with her. Indeed, he makes no secret of that fact;and, not having been able to induce her to remain with him in hischateau, he has joined the troupe of which she is a member, in orderto pursue his love affair. You certainly ought not to find this gallantproceeding in bad taste, since you also admire the fair object of hispursuit."

  "No; I admit all that you say. But you, in your turn, must acknowledgethat I could not be cognisant of this extraordinary romance byinspiration, and that the action of Captain Fracasse was impertinent."

  "Impertinent for an actor, I grant you," said the marquis, "butperfectly natural, indeed inevitable, for a gentleman, resentingunauthorized attentions to his mistress, and angry at an affront offeredto her. Now Captain Fracasse throws aside his mask, and as Baron deSigognac sends you by me his challenge to fight a duel, and demandsredress in that way for the insult you have offered him."

  "But who is to guarantee me that this pretended Baron de Sigognac, whoactually appears on the stage before the public with a company of lowbuffoons as one of themselves, is not a vulgar, intriguing rascal,usurping an honourable name, in the hope of obtaining the honour ofcrossing swords with the Duke of Vallombreuse?"

  "Duke," said the Marquis de Bruyeres, with much dignity, and someseverity of tone, "_I_ would not serve as second to any man who wasnot of noble birth, and of honourable character. I know the Baron deSigognac well. His chateau is only a few leagues from my estate. I willbe his guarantee. Besides, if you still persist in entertaining anydoubts with regard to his real rank, I have here with me all the proofsnecessary to convince you of his right to the ancient and distinguishedname of Sigognac. Will you permit me to call in my servant, who iswaiting in the antechamber? He will give you all those documents, forwhich I am personally responsible."

  "There is no need," Vallombreuse replied courteously; "your wordis sufficient. I accept his challenge. My friend, the Chevalier deVidalinc, who is my guest at present, will be my second; will you begood enough to consult with him as to the necessary arrangements? I willagree to anything you may propose--fight him when and where you please,and with any weapons he likes best; though I will confess that I shouldlike to see whether the Baron de Sigognac can defend himself againsta gentleman's sword as successfully as Captain Fracasse did against mylackeys' cudgels. The charming Isabelle shall crown the conqueror inthis tournament, as the fair ladies crowned the victorious knights inthe grand old days of chivalry. But now allow me to retire and finish mytoilet. The Chevalier de Vidalinc will be with you directly. I kiss yourhand, valiant marquis, as our Spanish neighbours say."

  With these courteous words the Duke of Vallombreuse bowed with studieddeference and politeness to his noble guest, and lifting the heavyportiere of tapestry that hung over the door opening into hisdressing-room, passed through it and vanished. But a very few momentshad elapsed when the Chevalier de Vidalinc joined the marquis, and theylost no time in coming to an understanding as to the conditions ofthe duel. As a matter of course, they selected swords--the gentleman'snatural weapon--and the meeting was fixed for the following morning,early; as de Sigognac, with his wonted consideration for his humblecomrades, did not wish to fight that same day, and run the risk ofinterfering with the programme Herode had announced for the evening,in case of his being killed or wounded. The rendezvous was at a certainspot in a field outside the walls of the town, which was level, smooth,well sheltered from observation, and advantageous in every way--beingthe favourite place of resort for such hostile meetings among theduellists of Poitiers.

  The Marquis de Bruyeres returned straightway to the Armes de France, andrendered an account of the success of his mission to de Sigognac; whothanked him warmly for his services, and felt greatly relieved, nowthat he was assured of having the opportunity to resent, as a gentlemanshould do, the affront offered to his adored Isabelle.

  The representation was to begin very early that evening, and all daythe town crier went about through the streets, beating his drum lustily,and, whenever he had gathered a curious crowd around him, stopping andannouncing the "great attractions--offered for that evening by Herode'scelebrated troupe." Immense placards were posted upon the walls ofthe tennis-court and at the entrance of the Armes de France, alsoannouncing, in huge, bright-coloured capitals, which reflected greatcredit on Scapin, who was the calligraphist of the troupe, the new playof "Lygdamon et Lydias," and the Rodomontades of Captain Fracasse. Longbefore the hour designated an eager crowd had assembled in the street infront of the theatre, and when the doors were opened poured in, like atorrent that has burst its bounds, and threatened to sweep everythingbefore them. Order was quickly restored, however, within, and "thenobility and gentry of Poitiers" soon began to arrive in rapidsuccession. Titled dames, in their sedan chairs, carried by liveriedservants, alighted amid much bowing and flourishing of attendantgallants. Gentlemen from the environs came riding in, followed bymounted grooms who led away their masters' horses or mules. Grand,clumsy old carriages, vast and roomy, with much tarnished gildings andmany faded decorations about them, and with coats-of-arms emblazoned ontheir panels, rolled slowly up, and out of them, as out of Noah'sark, issued all sorts of odd-looking pairs, and curious specimens ofprovincial grandeur; most of them resplendent in the strange fashions ofa bygone day, yet apparently well satisfied with the elegance of theirappearance. The house was literally packed, until there was not roomleft for another human being, be he never so slender. On each sideof the stage was a row of arm-chairs,
intended for distinguishedspectators, according to the custom of the times, and there sat theyoung Duke of Vallombreuse, looking exceedingly handsome, in a verybecoming suit of black velvet, elaborately trimmed with jet, and witha great deal of exquisite lace about it. Beside him was his faithfulfriend, the Chevalier de Vidalinc, who wore a superb costume of darkgreen satin, richly ornamented with gold. As to the Marquis de Bruyeres,he had not claimed his seat among the notables, but was snugly ensconcedin his usual place--a retired corner near the orchestra--whence he couldapplaud his charming Zerbine to his heart's content, without makinghimself too conspicuous. In the boxes were the fine ladies, in fulldress, settling themselves to their satisfaction with much rustlingof silks, fluttering of fans, whispering and laughing. Although theirfinery was rather old-fashioned, the general effect was exceedinglybrilliant, and the display of magnificent jewels--family heirlooms--wasfairly dazzling. Such flashing of superb diamonds on white bosoms and indark tresses; such strings of large, lustrous pearls round fair necks,and twined amid sunny curls; such rubies and sapphires, with theirradiant surroundings of brilliants; such thick, heavy chains of virgingold, of curious and beautiful workmanship; such priceless laces, yellowwith age, of just that much-desired tint which is creamy at night; suchsuperb old brocades, stiff and rich enough to stand alone; and best ofall, such sweet, sparkling, young faces, as were to be seen here andthere in this aristocratic circle. A few of the ladies, not wishing tobe known had kept on their little black velvet masks, though they didnot prevent their being recognised, spoken of by name, and commented onwith great freedom by the plebeian crowd in the pit. One lady, however,who was very carefully masked, and attended only by a maid, baffled thecuriosity of all observers. She sat a little back in her box, so thatthe full blaze of light should not fall upon her, and a large black laceveil, which was loosely fastened under her chin, covered her head soeffectually that it was impossible to make out even the colour of herhair. Her dress was rich and elegant in the extreme, but sombre in hue,and in her hand she held a handsome fan made of black feathers, witha tiny looking-glass in the centre. A great many curious glances weredirected at her, which manifestly made her uneasy, and she shrank stillfarther back in her box to avoid them; but the orchestra soon struck upa merry tune, and attracted all eyes and thoughts to the curtain, whichwas about to rise, so that the mysterious fair one was left to herenjoyment of the animated scene in peace. They began with "Lygdamon etLydias," in which Leander, who played the principal part, and worea most becoming new costume, was quite overwhelmingly handsome. Hisappearance was greeted by a murmur of admiration and a great whisperingamong the ladies, while one unsophisticated young creature, justemancipated from her convent-school, exclaimed rapturously, aloud, "Oh!how charming he is!" for which shocking indiscretion she received asevere reprimand from her horrified mama, that made her retire into thedarkest corner of the box, covered with blushes and confusion. Yet thepoor girl had only innocently given expression to the secret thoughtof every woman in the audience, her own dignified mother included; for,really, Leander was delightfully, irresistibly handsome as Lygdamon--aperfect Apollo, in the eyes of those provincial dames. But by far themost agitated of them all was the masked beauty; whose heaving bosom,trembling hand--betrayed by the fan it held--and eager attitude--leaningbreathlessly forward and intently watching Leander's everymovement--would inevitably have borne witness to her great and absorbinginterest in him, if anybody had been observing her to mark her emotion;but fortunately for her all eyes were turned upon the stage, so she hadtime to recover her composure. Leander was surpassing himself in hisacting that night, yet even then he did not neglect to gaze searchinglyround the circle of his fair admirers, trying to select the titleddames, and decide which one among them he should favour with his mostlanguishing glances. As he scrutinized one after another, his eyesfinally reached the masked lady, and at once his curiosity was onthe qui vive--here was assuredly something promising at last; he wasconvinced that the richly dressed, graceful incognita was a victimto his own irresistible charms, and he directed a long, eloquent,passionate look full at her, to indicate that she was understood. Tohis delight--his rapturous, ecstatic delight--she answered hisappealing glance by a very slight bend of the head, which was full ofsignificance, as if she would thank him for his penetration. Being thushappily brought en rapport, frequent glances were exchanged throughoutthe play, and even little signals also, between the hero on the stageand the lady in her box.

  Leander was an adept in that sort of thing, and could so modulate hisvoice and use his really fine eyes in making an impassioned declarationof love to the heroine of the play, that the fair object of hisadmiration in the audience would believe that it was addressedexclusively to herself. Inspired by this new flame, he acted with somuch spirit and animation that he was rewarded with round after roundof applause; which he had the art to make the masked lady understand hevalued less than the faintest mark of approbation and favour from her.

  After "Lygdamon et Lydias" came the Rodomontades of Captain Fracasse,which met with its accustomed success. Isabelle was rendered very uneasyby the close proximity of the Duke of Vallombreuse, dreading some actof insolence on his part; but her fears were needless, for he studiouslyrefrained from annoying her in any way--even by staring at her toofixedly. He was moderate in his applause, and quietly attentive, as hesat in a careless attitude in his arm-chair on the stage throughout thepiece. His lip curled scornfully sometimes when Captain Fracasse wasreceiving the shower of blows and abuse that fell to his share, and hiswhole countenance was expressive of the most lofty disdain, but that wasall; for though violent and impetuous by nature, the young duke was toomuch of a gentleman--once his first fury passed--to transgress the rulesof courtesy in any way; and more especially towards an adversarywith whom he was to fight on the morrow--until then hostilities weresuspended, and he religiously observed the truce.

  The masked lady quietly withdrew a little before the end of the secondpiece, in order to avoid mingling with the crowd, and also to be ableto regain her chair, which awaited her close at hand, unobserved; herdisappearance mightily disturbed Leander, who was furtively watchingthe movements of the mysterious unknown. The moment he was free, almostbefore the curtain had fallen, he threw a large cloak around him toconceal his theatrical costume, and rushed towards the outer door inpursuit of her. The slender thread that bound them together would bebroken past mending he feared if he did not find her, and it would betoo horrible to lose sight of this radiant creature--as he styled herto himself--before he had been able to profit by the pronounced marksof favour she had bestowed upon him so lavishly during the evening. Butwhen he reached the street, all out of breath from his frantic effortsin dashing through the crowd, and bustling people right and leftregardless of everything but the object he had in view, there wasnothing to be seen of her; she had vanished, and left not a tracebehind. Leander reproached himself bitterly with his own folly in nothaving endeavoured to exchange a few words with his lost divinity in thebrief interval between the two plays, and called himself every hard namehe could think of; as we are all apt to do in moments of vexation.

  But while he still stood gazing disconsolately in the direction that shemust have taken, a little page, dressed in a dark brown livery, and withhis cap pulled down over his eyes, suddenly appeared beside him, andaccosted him politely in a high childish treble, which he vainly stroveto render more manly. "Are you M. Leander? the one who played Lygdamon awhile ago?"

  "Yes, I am," answered Leander, amused at the pretentious airs of hissmall interlocutor, "and pray what can I do for you, my little man?"

  "Oh! nothing for me, thank you," said the page, with a significantsmile, "only I am charged to deliver a message to you--if you aredisposed to hear it--from the lady of the mask."

  "From the lady of the mask!" cried Leander. "Oh I tell me quickly whatit is; I am dying to hear it."

  "Well, here it is, then, word for word," said the tiny page jauntily."If Lygdamon is as brave as he is gallant
, he will go at midnight tothe open square in front of the church, where he will find a carriageawaiting him; he will enter it without question, as without fear, and gowhither it will take him."

  Before the astonished Leander had time to answer, the page haddisappeared in the crowd, leaving him in great perplexity, for ifhis heart beat high with joy at the idea of a romantic adventure, hisshoulders still reminded him painfully of the beating he had received ina certain park at dead of night, and he remembered with a groan how hehad been lured on to his own undoing. Was this another snare spread forhim by some envious wretch who begrudged him his brilliant success thatevening, and was jealous of the marked favour he had found in the eyesof the fair ladies of Poitiers? Should he encounter some furious husbandat the rendezvous, sword in hand, ready to fall upon him and run himthrough the body? These thoughts chilled his ardour, and had nearlycaused him to disregard entirely the page's mysterious message. Yet,if he did not profit by this tempting opportunity, which looked sopromising, he might make a terrible mistake; and, if he failed togo, would not the lady of the mask suspect him of cowardice, and bejustified in so doing? This thought was insupportable to the gallantLeander, and he decided to venture, though low be it spoken--in fearand trembling. He hastened back to the hotel, scarcely touched thesubstantial supper provided for the comedians--his appetite lost in hisintense excitement--and retiring to his own chamber made an elaboratetoilet; curling and perfuming his hair and mustache, and sparing nopains to make himself acceptable to the lovely lady of the mask. Hearmed himself with a dagger and a sword, though he did not know how touse either; but he thought that the mere sight of them might inspireawe.

  When he was all ready at last, he drew his broad felt hat well down overhis eyes, threw the corner of his cloak over his shoulder, in Spanishfashion, so as to conceal the lower part of his face, and creptstealthily out of the hotel--for once being lucky enough to escapethe observation of his wily tormentor, Scapin, who was at that momentsnoring his loudest in his own room at the other end of the house.

  The streets had long been empty and deserted, for the good people of theancient and respectable town of Poitiers go early to bed. Leander didnot meet a living creature, excepting a few forlorn, homeless cats,prowling about and bewailing themselves in a melancholy way, that fledbefore him, and vanished round dark corners or in shadowy doorways. Ourgallant reached the open square designated by the little page just asthe last stroke of twelve was vibrating in the still night air. It gavehim a shudder; a superstitious sensation of horror took possession ofhim, and he felt as if he had heard the tolling of his own funeral bell.For an instant he was on the point of rushing back, and seeking quiet,safe repose in his comfortable bed at the Armes de France, but wasarrested by the sight of the carriage standing there waiting for him,with the tiny page himself in attendance, perched on the step andholding the door open for him. So he was obliged to go on--for fewpeople in this strange world of ours have the courage to be cowardlybefore witnesses--and instinctively acting a part, he advanced with adeliberate and dignified bearing, that gave no evidence of the inwardfear and agitation that had set his heart beating as if it would burstout of his breast, and sent strong shivers over him from his head to hisfeet. Scarcely had he taken his seat in the carriage when the coachmantouched his horses with the whip, and they were off at a good roundpace; while he was in utter darkness, and did not even know which waythey went, as the leathern curtains were carefully drawn down, so thatnothing could be seen from within, or without. The small page remainedat his post on the carriage step, but spoke never a word, and Leandercould not with decency question him, much as he would have liked todo so. He knew that his surroundings were luxurious, for his exploringfingers told him that the soft, yielding cushions, upon which he wasresting, were covered with velvet, and his feet sank into a thick, richrug, while the vague, delicious perfume, that seemed to surround andcaress him, soothed his ruffled feelings, and filled his mind withrapturous visions of bliss. He tried in vain to divine who it couldbe that had sent to fetch him in this delightfully mysterious way, andbecame more curious than ever, and also rather uneasy again, when hefelt that the carriage had quitted the paved streets of the town, andwas rolling smoothly and rapidly along over a country road. At last itstopped, the little page jumped down and flung the door wide open, andLeander, alighting, found himself confronted by a high, dark wall, whichseemed to inclose a park, or garden; but he did not perceive a woodendoor close at hand until his small companion, pushing back a rusty bolt,proceeded to open it, with considerable difficulty, and admitted himinto what was apparently a thick wood.

  "Take hold of my hand," said the page patronizingly to Leander, "so thatI can guide you; it is too dark for you to be able to make out the paththrough this labyrinth of trees."

  Leander obeyed, and both walked cautiously forward, feeling their way asthey wound in and out among the trees, and treading the crackling, dryleaves, strewn thickly upon the ground, under their feet. Emerging fromthe wood at last, they came upon a garden, laid out in the usual style,with rows of box bordering the angular flower beds, and with yew trees,cut into pyramids, at regular intervals; which, just perceptible in thedarkness, looked like sentinels posted on their way--a shocking sightfor the poor timid actor, who trembled in every limb. They passed themall, however, unchallenged, and ascended some stone steps leading up toa terrace, on which stood a small country house--a sort of pavilion,with a dome, and little turrets at the corners. The place seemed quitedeserted, save for a subdued glimmer of light from one large window,which the thick crimson silk curtains within could not entirely conceal.At this reassuring sight Leander dismissed all fear from his mind, andgave himself up to the most blissful anticipations. He was in a seventhheaven of delight; his feet seemed to spurn the earth; he would haveflown into the presence of the waiting angel within if he had butknown the way. How he wished, in this moment of glory and triumph, thatScapin, his mortal enemy and merciless tormentor, could see him. Thetiny page stepped on before him, and after opening a large glass doorand showing him into a spacious apartment, furnished with great luxuryand elegance, retired and left him alone, without a word. The vaultedceiling--which was the interior of the dome seen from without--waspainted to represent a light blue sky, in which small rosy clouds werefloating, and bewitching little Loves flying about in all sorts ofgraceful attitudes, while the walls were hung with beautiful tapestry.The cabinets, inlaid with exquisite Florentine mosaics and filled withmany rare and curious objects of virtu, the round table covered witha superb Turkish cloth, the large, luxurious easy-chairs, the vases ofpriceless porcelain filled with fragrant flowers, all testified tothe wealth and fastidious taste of their owner. The richly gildedcandelabra, of many branches, holding clusters of wax candles, whichshed their soft, mellow light on all this magnificence, were upheldby sculptured arms and hands in black marble, to represent a negro's,issuing from fantastic white marble sleeves; as if the sable attendantswere standing without the room, and had passed their arms throughapertures in the wall.

  Leander, dazzled by so much splendour, did not at first perceive thatthere was no one awaiting him in this beautiful apartment, but when hehad recovered from his first feeling of astonishment, and realized thathe was alone, he proceeded to take off his cloak and lay it, with hishat and sword, on a chair in one corner, after which he deliberatelyrearranged his luxuriant ringlets in front of a Venetian mirror, andthen, assuming his most graceful and telling pose, began pouring forthin dulcet tones the following monologue: "But where, oh! where, is thedivinity of this Paradise? Here is the temple indeed, but I see not thegoddess. When, oh! when, will she deign to emerge from the cloud thatveils her perfect form, and reveal herself to the adoring eyes, thatwait so impatiently to behold her?" rolling the said organs of visionabout in the most effective manner by way of illustration.

  Just at that moment, as if in response to this eloquent appeal, thecrimson silk hanging, which fell in front of a door that Leander had notnoticed, was pushed aside, and the
lady he had come to seek stood beforehim; with the little black velvet mask still over her face, to the greatdisappointment and discomfiture of her expectant suitor. "Can it bepossible that she is ugly?" he thought to himself; "this obstinateclinging to the mask alarms me." But his uncertainty was of shortduration, for the lady, advancing to the centre of the room, whereLeander stood respectfully awaiting her pleasure, untied the stringsof the mask, took it off, and threw it down on the table, disclosing arather pretty face, with tolerably regular features, large, brilliant,brown eyes, and smiling red lips. Her rich masses of dark hair wereelaborately dressed, with one long curl hanging down upon her neck, andenhancing its whiteness by contrast; the uncovered shoulders were plumpand shapely, and the full, snowy bosom rose and fell tumultuously underthe cloud of beautifully fine lace that veiled, not concealed, itsvoluptuous curves.

  "Mme. la Marquise de Bruyeres!" cried Leander, astonished to the highestdegree, and not a little agitated, as the remembrance of his last, andfirst, attempt to meet her, and what he had found in her place, rushedback upon him; "can it be possible? am I dreaming? or may I dare tobelieve in such unhoped-for, transcendent happiness?"

  "Yes; you are not mistaken, my dear friend," said she, "I am indeed theMarquise de Bruyeres, and recognised, I trust, by your heart as well asyour eyes."

  "Ah! but too well," Leander replied, in thrilling tones. "Your adoredimage is cherished there, traced in living lines of light; I have onlyto look into that devoted, faithful heart, to see and worship yourbeauteous form, endowed with every earthly grace, and radiant with everyheavenly perfection."

  "I thank you," said the marquise, "for having retained such a kind andtender remembrance of me; it proves that yours is a noble, magnanimoussoul. You had every reason to think me cruel, ungrateful, false--when,alas! my poor heart in reality is but too susceptible, and I was farfrom being insensible to the passionate admiration you so gracefullytestified for me. Your letter addressed to me did not reach my hands,but unfortunately fell into those of the marquis--through the heartlesstreachery of the faithless maid to whom it was intrusted--and he sentyou the answer which so cruelly deceived you, my poor Leander! Sometime after he showed me that letter, laughing heartily over what hewas wicked enough to call a capital joke; that letter, in every line ofwhich the purest, most impassioned love shone so brightly, and filledmy heart with joy, despite his ridicule and coarse abuse. It did notproduce the effect upon me that he expected and intended; the sentimentI cherished secretly for you was only increased and strengthened by itspersuasive eloquence, and I resolved to reward you for all that you hadsuffered for my sake. Knowing my husband to be perfectly absorbed in hismost recent conquest, and so oblivious of me that there was no dangerof his becoming aware of my absence from the Chateau de Bruyeres, I haveventured to come to Poitiers; for I have heard you express fictitiouslove so admirably, that I long to know whether you can be as eloquentand convincing when you speak for yourself."

  "Mme. la Marquise," said Leander, in his sweetest tones, sinkinggracefully on his knees, upon a cushion at the feet of the lady, who hadlet herself fall languidly into a low easy-chair, as if exhausted by theextreme effort that her confession had been to her modesty. "Madame,or rather most lovely queen and deity, what can mere empty words,counterfeit passion, imaginary raptures, conceived and written in coldblood by the poets, and make-believe sighs, breathed out at the feet ofan odious actress, all powdered and painted, whose eyes are wanderingabsently around the theatre--what can these be beside the living wordsthat gush out from the soul, the fire that burns in the veins andarteries, the hyperboles of an exalted passion, to which the wholeuniverse cannot furnish images brilliant and lofty enough to apply toits idol, and the aspirations of a wildly loving heart, that would fainbreak forth from the breast that contains it, to serve as a footstoolfor the dear object of its adoration? You deign to say, celestialmarquise, that I express with some feeling the fictitious love in thepieces I play. Shall I tell you why it is so? Because I never look at,or even think of, the actress whom I seem to address--my thoughts soarfar above and beyond her--and I speak to my own perfect ideal; to abeing, noble, beautiful, spirituelle as yourself, Mme. la Marquise!It is you, in fine, YOU that I see and love under the name of Silvie,Doralice, Isabelle, or whatever it may chance to be; they are only yourphantoms for me."

  With these words Leander, who was too good an actor to neglect thepantomime that should accompany such a declaration, bent down over thehand that the marquise had allowed him to take, and covered it withburning kisses; which delicate attention was amiably received, and hisreal love-making seemed to be as pleasing to her ladyship as even hecould have desired.

  The eastern sky was all aflame with the radiance of the coming sun whenLeander, well wrapped in his warm cloak, was driven back to Poitiers.As he lifted a corner of one of the carefully lowered curtains, to seewhich side of the town they were approaching, he caught sight of theMarquis de Bruyeres and the Baron de Sigognac, still at some distance,who were walking briskly along the road towards him, on their way to thespot designated for the duel.

  Leander let the curtain drop, so as not to be seen by the marquis, whowas almost grazed by the carriage wheels as they rolled by him, and asatisfied smile played round his lips; he was revenged--the beating wasatoned for now.

  The place selected for the hostile meeting between the Baron de Sigognacand the Duke of Vallombreuse was sheltered from the cold north wind bya high wall, which also screened the combatants from the observation ofthose passing along the road. The ground was firm, well trodden down,without stones, tufts of grass, or inequalities of any kind, which mightbe in the way of the swordsmen, and offered every facility to men ofhonour to murder each other after the most correct and approved fashion.The Duke of Vallombreuse and the Chevalier de Vidalinc, followed by asurgeon, arrived at the rendezvous only a few seconds after the others,and the four gentlemen saluted each other with the haughty courtesy andfrigid politeness becoming to well-bred men meeting for such a purpose.The duke's countenance was expressive of the most careless indifference,as he felt perfect confidence in his own courage and skill. The baronwas equally cool and collected, though it was his first duel, and alittle nervousness or agitation would have been natural and excusable.The Marquis de Bruyeres watched him with great satisfaction, auguringgood things for their side from his quiet sang-froid. Vallombreuseimmediately threw off his cloak and hat, and unfastened his pourpoint,in which he was closely imitated by de Sigognac. The marquis and thechevalier measured the swords of the combatants, which were found to beof equal length, and then each second placed his principal in position,and put his sword in his hand.

  "Fall to, gentlemen, and fight like men of spirit, as you are," said themarquis.

  "A needless recommendation that," chimed in the Chevalier de Vidalinc;"they go at it like lions---we shall have a superb duel."

  The Duke of Vallombreuse, who, in his inmost heart, could not helpdespising de Sigognac more than a little, and had imagined that heshould find in him but a weak antagonist, was astonished when hediscovered the strength of the baron's sword, and could not deny tohimself that he wielded a firm and supple blade, which baffled his ownwith the greatest ease--that he was, in fine, a "foeman worthy of hissteel." He became more careful and attentive; then tried several feints,which were instantly detected. At the least opening he left, the pointof de Sigognac's sword, rapid as lightning in its play, darted in uponhim, necessitating the exercise of all his boasted skill to parry it.He ventured an attack, which was so promptly met, and his weapon socleverly struck aside, that he was left exposed to his adversary'sthrust, and but for throwing himself back out of reach, by a sudden,violent movement, he must have received it full in his breast. Fromthat instant all was changed for the young duke; he had believed thathe would be able to direct the combat according to his own will andpleasure, but, instead of that, he was forced to make use of all hisskill and address to defend himself. He had believed that after a fewpasses he could wound de Sigognae, wh
erever he chose, by a thrust which,up to that time, he had always found successful; but, instead of that,he had hard work to avoid being wounded himself. Despite his effortsto remain calm and cool, he was rapidly growing angry; he felt himselfbecoming nervous and feverish, while the baron, perfectly at his easeand unmoved, seemed to take a certain pleasure in irritating him by theirreproachable excellence of his fence.

  "Sha'n't we do something in this way too, while our friends areoccupied?" said the chevalier to the marquis.

  "It is very cold this morning. Suppose we fight a little also, if onlyto warm ourselves up, and set our blood in motion."

  "With all my heart," the marquis replied; "we could not do better."

  The chevalier was superior to the Marquis de Bruyeres in the noble artof fencing, and after a few passes had sent the latter's sword flyingout of his hand. As no enmity existed between them, they stopped thereby mutual consent, and turned their attention again to de Sigognac andVallombreuse. The duke, sore pressed by the close play of the baron,had fallen back several feet from his original position. He was becomingweary, and beginning to draw panting breaths. From time to time, astheir swords clashed violently together, bluish sparks flew from them;but the defence was growing perceptibly weaker, and de Sigognac wassteadily forcing the duke to give way before his attack. When he saw thestate of affairs, the Chevalier de Vidalinc turned very pale, and beganto feel really anxious for his friend, who was so evidently getting theworst of it.

  "Why the devil doesn't he try that wonderful thrust he learned fromGirolamo of Naples?" murmured he. "This confounded Gascon cannotpossibly know anything about that."

  As if inspired by the same thought, the young duke did, at that verymoment, try to put it into execution; but de Sigognac, aware of what hewas preparing to do, not only prevented but anticipated him, and touchedand wounded his adversary in the arm--his sword going clean through it.

  The pain was so intense that the duke's fingers could no longer grasphis sword, and it fell to the ground. The baron, with the utmostcourtesy, instantly desisted, although he was entitled by the rulesof the code to follow up his blow with another--for the duel does notnecessarily come to an end with the first blood drawn. He turned thepoint of his sword to the ground, put his left hand on his hip, andstood silently awaiting his antagonist's pleasure. But Vallombreusecould not hold the sword which his second had picked up and presented tohim, after a nod of acquiescence from de Sigognac; and he turned awayto signify that he had had enough. Whereupon, the marquis and the baron,after bowing politely to the others, set forth quietly to walk back tothe town.