Chapter XIV
MADEMOISELLE DE LA VALLIERE
We wandered through the _salons_, the Marquis and I. It was no easymatter to find a friend in rooms so crowded.
"Stay here," said the Marquis, "I have thought of a way of finding him.Besides, his jealousy may have warned him that there is no particularadvantage to be gained by presenting you to his wife; I had better goand reason with him, as you seem to wish an introduction so very much."
This occurred in the room that is now called the "Salon d'Apollon." Thepaintings remained in my memory, and my adventure of that evening wasdestined to occur there.
I sat down upon a sofa, and looked about me. Three or four personsbeside myself were seated on this roomy piece of gilded furniture. Theywere chatting all very gaily; all--except the person who sat next me,and she was a lady. Hardly two feet interposed between us. The lady satapparently in a reverie. Nothing could be more graceful. She wore thecostume perpetuated in Collignan's full-length portrait of Mademoisellede la Valiere. It is, as you know, not only rich, but elegant. Her hairwas powdered, but one could perceive that it was naturally a dark brown.One pretty little foot appeared, and could anything be more exquisitethan her hand?
It was extremely provoking that this lady wore her mask, and did not, asmany did, hold it for a time in her hand.
I was convinced that she was pretty. Availing myself of the privilege ofa masquerade, a microcosm in which it is impossible, except by voice andallusion, to distinguish friend from foe, I spoke:
"It is not easy, Mademoiselle, to deceive me," I began.
"So much the better for Monsieur," answered the mask, quietly.
"I mean," I said, determined to tell my fib, "that beauty is a giftmore difficult to conceal than Mademoiselle supposes."
"Yet Monsieur has succeeded very well," she said in the same sweetand careless tones.
"I see the costume of this, the beautiful Mademoiselle de la Valiere,upon a form that surpasses her own; I raise my eyes, and I behold amask, and yet I recognize the lady; beauty is like that precious stonein the 'Arabian Nights,' which emits, no matter how concealed, a lightthat betrays it."
"I know the story," said the young lady. "The light betrayed it, not inthe sun but in darkness. Is there so little light in these rooms,Monsieur, that a poor glowworm can show so brightly? I thought we werein a luminous atmosphere, wherever a certain Countess moved?"
Here was an awkward speech! How was I to answer? This lady might be, asthey say some ladies are, a lover of mischief, or an intimate of theCountess de St. Alyre. Cautiously, therefore, I inquired,
"What Countess?"
"If you know me, you must know that she is my dearest friend. Is she notbeautiful?"
"How can I answer, there are so many countesses."
"Everyone who knows me, knows who my best beloved friend is. You don'tknow me?"
"That is cruel. I can scarcely believe I am mistaken."
"With whom were you walking, just now?" she asked.
"A gentleman, a friend," I answered.
"I saw him, of course, a friend; but I think I know him, and should liketo be certain. Is he not a certain Marquis?"
Here was another question that was extremely awkward.
"There are so many people here, and one may walk, at one time with one,and at another with a different one, that--"
"That an unscrupulous person has no difficulty in evading a simplequestion like mine. Know then, once for all, that nothing disgusts aperson of spirit so much as suspicion. You, Monsieur, are a gentleman ofdiscretion. I shall respect you accordingly."
"Mademoiselle would despise me, were I to violate a confidence."
"But you don't deceive me. You imitate your friend's diplomacy. I hatediplomacy. It means fraud and cowardice. Don't you think I know him? Thegentleman with the cross of white ribbon on his breast? I know theMarquis d'Harmonville perfectly. You see to what good purpose youringenuity has been expended."
"To that conjecture I can answer neither yes nor no."
"You need not. But what was your motive in mortifying a lady?"
"It is the last thing on earth I should do."
"You affected to know me, and you don't; through caprice, orlistlessness, or curiosity, you wished to converse, not with a lady, butwith a costume. You admired, and you pretend to mistake me for another.But who is quite perfect? Is truth any longer to be found on earth?"
"Mademoiselle has formed a mistaken opinion of me."
"And you also of me; you find me less foolish than you supposed. I knowperfectly whom you intend amusing with compliments and melancholydeclamation, and whom, with that amiable purpose, you have beenseeking."
"Tell me whom you mean," I entreated. "Upon one condition."
"What is that?"
"That you will confess if I name the lady."
"You describe my object unfairly," I objected. "I can't admit that Iproposed speaking to any lady in the tone you describe."
"Well, I shan't insist on that; only if I name the lady, you willpromise to admit that I am right."
"_Must_ I promise?"
"Certainly not, there is no compulsion; but your promise is the onlycondition on which I will speak to you again."
I hesitated for a moment; but how could she possibly tell? The Countesswould scarcely have admitted this little romance to anyone; and the maskin the La Valliere costume could not possibly know who the masked dominobeside her was.
"I consent," I said, "I promise."
"You must promise on the honor of a gentleman."
"Well, I do; on the honor of a gentleman."
"Then this lady is the Countess de St. Alyre."
I was unspeakably surprised; I was disconcerted; but I remembered mypromise, and said:
"The Countess de St. Alyre _is_, unquestionably, the lady to whom Ihoped for an introduction tonight; but I beg to assure you, also on thehonor of a gentleman, that she has not the faintest imaginable suspicionthat I was seeking such an honor, nor, in all probability, does sheremember that such a person as I exists. I had the honor to render herand the Count a trifling service, too trifling, I fear, to have earnedmore than an hour's recollection."
"The world is not so ungrateful as you suppose; or if it be, there are,nevertheless, a few hearts that redeem it. I can answer for the Countessde St. Alyre, she never forgets a kindness. She does not show all shefeels; for she is unhappy, and cannot."
"Unhappy! I feared, indeed, that might be. But for all the rest that youare good enough to suppose, it is but a flattering dream."
"I told you that I am the Countess's friend, and being so I must knowsomething of her character; also, there are confidences between us, andI may know more than you think of those trifling services of which yousuppose the recollection is so transitory."
I was becoming more and more interested. I was as wicked as other youngmen, and the heinousness of such a pursuit was as nothing, now thatself-love and all the passions that mingle in such a romance wereroused. The image of the beautiful Countess had now again quitesuperseded the pretty counterpart of La Valliee, who was before me. Iwould have given a great deal to hear, in solemn earnest, that she didremember the champion who, for her sake, had thrown himself before thesaber of an enraged dragoon, with only a cudgel in his hand, andconquered.
"You say the Countess is unhappy," said I. "What causes herunhappiness?"
"Many things. Her husband is old, jealous, and tyrannical. Is not thatenough? Even when relieved from his society, she is lonely."
"But you are her friend?" I suggested.
"And you think one friend enough?" she answered; "she has one alone, towhom she can open her heart."
"Is there room for another friend?"
"Try."
"How can I find a way?"
"She will aid you."
"How?"
She answered by a question. "Have you secured rooms in either of thehotels of Versailles?"
"No, I could not. I am lodged in the Dragon Volant
, which stands at theverge of the grounds of the Chateau de la Carque."
"That is better still. I need not ask if you have courage for anadventure. I need not ask if you are a man of honor. A lady may trustherself to you, and fear nothing. There are few men to whom theinterview, such as I shall arrange, could be granted with safety. Youshall meet her at two o'clock this morning in the Park of the Chateau dela Carque. What room do you occupy in the Dragon Volant?"
I was amazed at the audacity and decision of this girl. Was she, as wesay in England, hoaxing me?
"I can describe that accurately," said I. "As I look from the rear ofthe house, in which my apartment is, I am at the extreme right, next theangle; and one pair of stairs up, from the hall."
"Very well; you must have observed, if you looked into the park, two orthree clumps of chestnut and lime trees, growing so close together as toform a small grove. You must return to your hotel, change your dress,and, preserving a scrupulous secrecy as to why or where you go, leavethe Dragon Volant, and climb the park wall, unseen; you will easilyrecognize the grove I have mentioned; there you will meet the Countess,who will grant you an audience of a few minutes, who will expect themost scrupulous reserve on your part, and who will explain to you, in afew words, a great deal which I could not so well tell you here."
I cannot describe the feeling with which I heard these words. I wasastounded. Doubt succeeded. I could not believe these agitating words.
"Mademoiselle will believe that if I only dared assure myself that sogreat a happiness and honor were really intended for me, my gratitudewould be as lasting as my life. But how dare I believe that Mademoiselledoes not speak, rather from her own sympathy or goodness, than from acertainty that the Countess de St. Alyre would concede so great anhonor?"
"Monsieur believes either that I am not, as I pretend to be, in thesecret which he hitherto supposed to be shared by no one but theCountess and himself, or else that I am cruelly mystifying him. That Iam in her confidence, I swear by all that is dear in a whisperedfarewell. By the last companion of this flower!" and she took for amoment in her fingers the nodding head of a white rosebud that wasnestled in her bouquet. "By my own good star, and hers--or shall I callit our 'belle etoile?' Have I said enough?"
"Enough?" I repeated, "more than enough--a thousand thanks."
"And being thus in her confidence, I am clearly her friend; and being afriend would it be friendly to use her dear name so; and all for sake ofpracticing a vulgar trick upon you--a stranger?"
"Mademoiselle will forgive me. Remember how very precious is the hope ofseeing, and speaking to the Countess. Is it wonderful, then, that Ishould falter in my belief? You have convinced me, however, and willforgive my hesitation."
"You will be at the place I have described, then, at two o'clock?"
"Assuredly," I answered.
"And Monsieur, I know, will not fail through fear. No, he need notassure me; his courage is already proved."
"No danger, in such a case, will be unwelcome to me."
"Had you not better go now, Monsieur, and rejoin your friend?"
"I promised to wait here for my friend's return. The Count de St. Alyresaid that he intended to introduce me to the Countess."
"And Monsieur is so simple as to believe him?"
"Why should I not?"
"Because he is jealous and cunning. You will see. He will neverintroduce you to his wife. He will come here and say he cannot find her,and promise another time."
"I think I see him approaching, with my friend. No--there is no ladywith him."
"I told you so. You will wait a long time for that happiness, if it isnever to reach you except through his hands. In the meantime, you hadbetter not let him see you so near me. He will suspect that we have beentalking of his wife; and that will whet his jealousy and his vigilance."
I thanked my unknown friend in the mask, and withdrawing a few steps,came, by a little "circumbendibus," upon the flank of the Count. Ismiled under my mask as he assured me that the Duchess de la Roqueme hadchanged her place, and taken the Countess with her; but he hoped, atsome very early time, to have an opportunity of enabling her to make myacquaintance.
I avoided the Marquis d'Harmonville, who was following the Count. I wasafraid he might propose accompanying me home, and had no wish to beforced to make an explanation.
I lost myself quickly, therefore, in the crowd, and moved, as rapidly asit would allow me, toward the Galerie des Glaces, which lay in thedirection opposite to that in which I saw the Count and my friend theMarquis moving.