The marquis led Mademoiselle de Verneuil to a large and worm-eaten armchair placed beside the fireplace; Francine followed and stood behind her mistress, leaning on the back of that ancient bit of furniture.
"You will allow me for a moment to play the part of master of the house," he said, leaving the two women and mingling with the groups of his other guests.
Francine saw the gentlemen hasten, after a few words from Montauran, to hide their weapons, maps, and whatever else might arouse the suspicions of the Republican officers.Some took off their broad leather belts containing pistols and hunting-knives.The marquis requested them to show the utmost prudence, and went himself to see to the reception of the troublesome guests whom fate had bestowed upon him.
Mademoiselle de Verneuil, who had raised her feet to the fire and was now warming them, did not turn her head as Montauran left the room, thus disappointing those present, who were anxious to see her.
Francine alone saw the change produced upon the company by the departure of the young chief.The gentlemen gathered hastily round Madame du Gua, and during a conversation carried on in an undertone between them, they all turned several times to look curiously at the stranger.
"You know Montauran," Madame du Gua said to them; "he has fallen in love with that worthless girl, and, as you can easily understand, he thinks all my warnings selfish.Our friends in Paris, Messieurs de Valois and d'Esgrignon, have warned him of a trap set for him by throwing some such creature at his head; but in spite of this he allows himself to be fooled by the first woman he meets,--a girl who, if my information is correct, has stolen a great name only to disgrace it."The speaker, in whom our readers have already recognized the lady who instigated the attack on the "turgotine," may be allowed to keep the name which she used to escape the dangers that threatened her in Alencon.The publication of her real name would only mortify a noble family already deeply afflicted at the misconduct of this woman; whose history, by the bye, has already been given on another scene.
The curiosity manifested by the company of men soon became impertinent and almost hostile.A few harsh words reached Francine's ear, and after a word said to her mistress the girl retreated into the embrasure of a window.Marie rose, turned towards the insolent group, and gave them a look full of dignity and even disdain.Her beauty, the elegance of her manners, and her pride changed the behavior of her enemies, and won her the flattering murmur which escaped their lips.
Two or three men, whose outward appearance seemed to denote the habits of polite society and the gallantry acquired in courts, came towards her; but her propriety of demeanor forced them to respect her, and none dared speak to her; so that, instead of being herself arraigned by the company, it was she who appeared to judge of them.These chiefs of a war undertaken for God and the king bore very little resemblance to the portraits her fancy had drawn of them.The struggle, really great in itself, shrank to mean proportions as she observed these provincial noblemen, all, with one or two vigorous exceptions, devoid of significance and virility.Having made to herself a poem of such heroes, Marie suddenly awakened to the truth.Their faces expressed to her eyes more a love of scheming than a love of glory; self-interest had evidently put arms into their hands.Still, it must be said that these men did become heroic when brought into action.The loss of her illusions made Mademoiselle de Verneuil unjust, and prevented her from recognizing the real devotion which rendered several of these men remarkable.It is true that most of those now present were commonplace.A few original and marked faces appeared among them, but even these were belittled by the artificiality and the etiquette of aristocracy.If Marie generously granted intellect and perception to the latter, she also discerned in them a total absence of the simplicity, the grandeur, to which she had been accustomed among the triumphant men of the Republic.This nocturnal assemblage in the old ruined castle made her smile; the scene seemed symbolic of the monarchy.But the thought came to her with delight that the marquis at least played a noble part among these men, whose only remaining merit in her eyes was devotion to a lost cause.She pictured her lover's face upon the background of this company, rejoicing to see it stand forth among those paltry and puny figures who were but the instruments of his great designs.
The footsteps of the marquis were heard in the adjoining room.
Instantly the company separated into little groups and the whisperings ceased.Like schoolboys who have plotted mischief in the master's absence, they hurriedly became silent and orderly.Montauran entered.
Marie had the happiness of admiring him among his fellows, of whom he was the youngest, the handsomest, and the chief.Like a king in his court, he went from group to group, distributing looks and nods and words of encouragement or warning, with pressure of the hands and smiles; doing his duty as leader of a party with a grace and self-possession hardly to be expected in the young man whom Marie had so lately accused of heedlessness.
The presence of the marquis put an end to the open curiosity bestowed on Mademoiselle de Verneuil, but Madame du Gua's scandalous suggestions bore fruit.The Baron du Guenic, familiarly called "l'Intime," who by rank and name had the best right among those present to treat Montauran familiarly, took the young leader by the arm and led him apart.
"My dear marquis," he said; "we are much disturbed at seeing you on the point of committing an amazing folly.""What do you mean by that?"
