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  Chapter XXI. M. Malicorne the Keeper of the Records of France.

  Two women, their figures completely concealed by their mantles, andwhose masks effectually hid the upper portion of their faces, timidlyfollowed Manicamp's steps. On the first floor, behind curtains ofred damask, the soft light of a lamp placed upon a low table faintlyillumined the room, at the other extremity of which, on a large bedsteadsupported by spiral columns, around which curtains of the same color asthose which deadened the rays of the lamp had been closely drawn, lay DeGuiche, his head supported by pillows, his eyes looking as if the mistsof death were gathering; his long black hair, scattered over the pillow,set off the young man's hollow temples. It was easy to see that feverwas the chief tenant of the chamber. De Guiche was dreaming. Hiswandering mind was pursuing, through gloom and mystery, one of thosewild creations delirium engenders. Two or three drops of blood, stillliquid, stained the floor. Manicamp hurriedly ran up the stairs, butpaused at the threshold of the door, looked into the room, and seeingthat everything was perfectly quiet, he advanced towards the foot of thelarge leathern armchair, a specimen of furniture of the reign of HenryIV., and seeing that the nurse, as a matter of course, had dropped offto sleep, he awoke her, and begged her to pass into the adjoining room.

  Then, standing by the side of the bed, he remained for a momentdeliberating whether it would be better to awaken Guiche, in order toacquaint him with the good news. But, as he began to hear behind thedoor the rustling of silk dresses and the hurried breathing of his twocompanions, and as he already saw that the curtain screening the doorwayseemed on the point of being impatiently drawn aside, he passed roundthe bed and followed the nurse into the next room. As soon as he haddisappeared the curtain was raised, and his two female companionsentered the room he had just left. The one who entered first made agesture to her companion, which riveted her to the spot where she stood,close to the door, and then resolutely advanced towards the bed, drewback the curtains along the iron rod, and threw them in thick foldsbehind the head of the bed. She gazed upon the comte's pallid face;remarked his right hand enveloped in linen whose dazzling whiteness wasemphasized by the counterpane patterned with dark leaves thrown acrossthe couch. She shuddered as she saw a stain of blood growing largerand larger upon the bandages. The young man's breast was uncovered,as though for the cool night air to assist his respiration. A narrowbandage fastened the dressings of the wound, around which a purplishcircle of extravasated blood was gradually increasing in size. A deepsigh broke from her lips. She leaned against one of the columns of thebed, and gazed, through the apertures in her mask, upon the harrowingspectacle before her. A hoarse harsh groan passed like a death-rattlethrough the comte's clenched teeth. The masked lady seized his lefthand, which scorched like burning coals. But at the very moment sheplaced her icy hand upon it, the action of the cold was such that DeGuiche opened his eyes, and by a look in which revived intelligencewas dawning, seemed as though struggling back again into existence. Thefirst thing upon which he fixed his gaze was this phantom standing erectby his bedside. At that sight, his eyes became dilated, but without anyappearance of consciousness in them. The lady thereupon made a sign toher companion, who had remained at the door; and in all probability thelatter had already received her lesson, for in a clear tone ofvoice, and without any hesitation whatever, she pronounced thesewords:--"Monsieur le comte, her royal highness Madame is desirous ofknowing how you are able to bear your wound, and to express to you, bymy lips, her great regret at seeing you suffer."

  As she pronounced the word Madame, Guiche started; he had not as yetremarked the person to whom the voice belonged, and he naturally turnedtowards the direction whence it preceded. But, as he felt the cold handstill resting on his own, he again turned towards the motionless figurebeside him. "Was it you who spoke, madame?" he asked, in a weak voice,"or is there another person in beside you in the room?"

  "Yes," replied the figure, in an almost unintelligible voice, as shebent down her head.

  "Well," said the wounded man, with a great effort, "I thank you. TellMadame that I no longer regret to die, since she has remembered me."

  At the words "to die," pronounced by one whose life seemed to hang on athread, the masked lady could not restrain her tears, which flowed underthe mask, and appeared upon her cheeks just where the mask left her facebare. If De Guiche had been in fuller possession of his senses, he wouldhave seen her tears roll like glistening pearls, and fall upon his bed.The lady, forgetting that she wore her mask, raised her hand as thoughto wipe her eyes, and meeting the rough velvet, she tore away her maskin anger, and threw it on the floor. At the unexpected apparition beforehim, which seemed to issue from a cloud, De Guiche uttered a cry andstretched his arms towards her; but every word perished on his lips, andhis strength seemed utterly abandoning him. His right hand, which hadfollowed his first impulse, without calculating the amount of strengthhe had left, fell back again upon the bed, and immediately afterwardsthe white linen was stained with a larger spot than before. In themeantime, the young man's eyes became dim, and closed, as if he werealready struggling with the messenger of death; and then, after a fewinvoluntary movements, his head fell back motionless on his pillow; hisface grew livid. The lady was frightened; but on this occasion, contraryto what is usually the case, fear attracted. She leaned over the youngman, gazed earnestly, fixedly at his pale, cold face, which she almosttouched, then imprinted a rapid kiss upon De Guiche's left hand, who,trembling as if an electric shock had passed through him, awoke a secondtime, opened his large eyes, incapable of recognition, and againfell into a state of complete insensibility. "Come," she said to hercompanion, "we must not remain here any longer; I shall be committingsome folly or other."

  "Madame, Madame, your highness is forgetting your mask!" said hervigilant companion.

  "Pick it up," replied her mistress, as she tottered almost senselesstowards the staircase, and as the outer door had been left onlyhalf-closed, the two women, light as birds, passed through it, andwith hurried steps returned to the palace. One of them ascended towardsMadame's apartments, where she disappeared; the other entered the roomsbelonging to the maids of honor, namely, on the _entresol_, and havingreached her own room, she sat down before a table, and without givingherself time even to breathe, wrote the following letter:

  "This evening Madame has been to see M. de Guiche. Everything is goingwell on this side. See that your news is equally exemplary, and do notforget to burn this paper."

  She folded the letter, and leaving her room with every possibleprecaution, crossed a corridor which led to the apartments appropriatedto the gentlemen attached to Monsieur's service. She stopped before adoor, under which, having previously knocked twice in a short, quickmanner, she thrust the paper, and fled. Then, returning to her ownroom, she removed every trace of her having gone out, and also ofhaving written the letter. Amid the investigations she was so diligentlypursuing she perceived on the table the mask which belonged to Madame,and which, according to her mistress's directions, she had brought backbut had forgotten to restore to her. "Oh, oh!" she said, "I must notforget to do to-morrow what I have forgotten to-day."

  And she took hold of the velvet mask by that part which covered thecheeks, and feeling that her thumb was wet, looked at it. It was notonly wet, but reddened. The mask had fallen upon one of the spots ofblood which, we have already said, stained the floor, and from thatblack velvet outside which had accidentally come into contact withit, the blood had passed through to the inside, and stained the whitecambric lining. "Oh, oh!" said Montalais, for doubtless our readers havealready recognized her by these various maneuvers, "I shall not giveback this mask; it is far too precious now."

  And rising from her seat, she ran towards a box made of maple wood,which inclosed different articles of toilette and perfumery. "No, nothere," she said, "such a treasure must not be abandoned to the slightestchance of detection."

  Then, after a moment's silence, and with a smile that was peculiarly herown, she added:--"Beau
tiful mask, stained with the blood of that braveknight, you shall go and join that collection of wonders, La Valliere'sand Raoul's letters, that loving collection, indeed, which will some dayor other form part of the history of France, of European royalty. Youshall be placed under M. Malicorne's care," said the laughing girl, asshe began to undress herself, "under the protection of that worthy M.Malicorne," she said, blowing out the taper, "who thinks he was bornonly to become the chief usher of Monsieur's apartments, and whom I willmake keeper of the records and historiographer of the house of Bourbon,and of the first houses in the kingdom. Let him grumble now, thatdiscontented Malicorne," she added, as she drew the curtains and fellasleep.