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"Give them to me this instant, knave, and your miserable doublet too, or I'll run you through with Roland!"
Pa.s.sedix made such a terrible face, and held the point of his sword so near the poor fellow's breast, that he, trembling for his life, quickly removed his doublet and his breeches. The chevalier lost no time in donning them, saying to himself:
"I shall be a horrible-looking creature in this costume! but, after all, it is preferable to being naked!--Now, I will conceal it as well as I can with my cloak.--Come, don't cry, you fool! Do you imagine that I propose to steal your clothes? They will be returned to you as soon as I have been home and have dressed myself in orange, pending the purchase of a lovely costume, new throughout. I shall select a sky-blue this time!--If my people return, you will say to them that I shall expect them at the Hotel du Sanglier, Place aux Chats; but I begin to doubt whether they will return--the vagabonds!"
And Pa.s.sedix, having finished his toilet to the best of his ability, left the bathing establishment, grumbling between his teeth:
"These breeches are horribly unbecoming to me!--O my esquire! O my page!
you shall pay me for all this!"
LII
THE LITTLE ANGEL
Leodgard had recovered his health; he was entirely cured; still, he had not left the abode of his ancestors. More than once he had formed the plan of returning to his _pet.i.te maison_ in Rue de Bretonvilliers; but whenever he had that idea, little Blanche was not with him. As soon as his daughter appeared, as soon as she came running into the room, smiling and holding out her little arms to him, all thought of going away was forgotten; the time pa.s.sed so quickly with the child, and so pleasantly!
Blanche remained with her father almost all day; Bathilde deprived herself of the pleasure of having her child with her, because she felt that Blanche's presence alone detained Leodgard at the Hotel de Marvejols. But when the little one had been away from her mother several hours in succession, she always asked to see her; for, in that loving heart, the love that she felt for the count in no wise diminished her affection for her mother.
And one day, when Blanche, having remained longer than usual with Leodgard, asked to go back to her mother, and he, holding her in his arms, would have kept her longer, the child suddenly said to him:
"Well! send for mamma to come here; then I will not ask to go away, because I shall be with both of you."
To this very natural suggestion the count made no reply; he simply cast down his eyes and sighed; but Blanche at once continued:
"Why doesn't mamma ever come here with me? When I ask her to, she always says: 'That would annoy monsieur le comte.'--Are you _monsieur le comte_?"
"To be sure," Leodgard replied, with a smile.
"Well! don't you want to have mamma come? Has she been naughty?"
Leodgard did not quite know what to say; children always go straight to the point with their questions, and often embarra.s.s the persons to whom they propound them, because grown people are unable to answer as frankly as they are questioned.
But at that moment Bathilde, being anxious about her daughter, who did not usually remain so long in her father's apartment, drew the portiere aside and stopped timidly in the doorway.
"Excuse me, monsieur le comte," she said, "for coming here unsummoned.
But my daughter did not return, and I was afraid that she was not well."
Leodgard looked up at Bathilde. For the first time since she had been his wife, he observed her with attention; he was surprised at the changes for the better that had taken place in her whole person. On becoming a countess, the bath keeper's daughter had undergone a transformation. Endowed by nature with angelic beauty, she possessed now, in addition, grace, distinction, and refinement; she fascinated by her mere presence; one felt drawn toward her; and having no suspicion of her power, Bathilde augmented it by the charm of her smile and the sweet quality of her voice.
One would have said that Leodgard remarked all this as if he had never before looked at his wife; and Bathilde, who had not seen the count scrutinize her with so much interest for a long time, felt the blood rush to her cheeks, as if beneath the flame of a lover's glance. But in her eyes her husband was still the most beloved of lovers; she did not know which way to turn; yet she was happy, very happy; she began to hope that Leodgard might love her once more.
Blanche jumped down from her father's knee and ran to her mother.
"I wanted to come to see you," she said; "but papa didn't want to let me go. Now you are here, and Blanche is very glad! After this, you'll come here with me, won't you?"
Bathilde looked at her daughter and did not reply.
But Leodgard bent his head before his young wife, and said in a gracious tone:
"When you choose to come here, madame, you will always be welcome."
"You are too kind, monsieur le comte," faltered Bathilde, who felt that sobs would soon stifle her voice, and who longed, but did not yet dare, to throw herself into her husband's arms. She hastily led her daughter from the room and returned to her own apartment. There she took Blanche in her arms, strained her to her heart, and bathed her with her tears.
"You crying, mamma?" said Blanche.
"Oh! it is with pleasure, with happiness this time, my darling; and this happiness too I owe to you!"
On the day following this scene, about four in the afternoon, a servant entered the apartment of Leodgard, who had his daughter on his knee, and informed his master that a young man had called, saying that he was charged with a message for the Comte de Marvejols and that he desired to be admitted to his presence.
"What is the man's name?" inquired Leodgard.
"He refuses to give it, monsieur le comte; he desires to speak with you alone."
"Admit him."
In a few moments Bahuchet bowed to the floor before the count.
On recognizing the little clerk, his messenger to Valentine, Leodgard was conscious of a thrill of emotion; memories of the past awoke in his heart; and he put Blanche on the floor, saying:
"Go, my child, go to your mother; you may come back to me later."
"Yes, papa!--Oh! what an awfully ugly man!"
And the little girl left the room, taking care to avoid Bahuchet, whose presence seemed almost to terrify her.
"So it is you, messenger of disaster!" said Leodgard, when he and the little clerk were alone; "why have you come here? I did not send for you, I no longer require your services. Tell me--what do you want?
Speak!"
"Deign to excuse me for coming, monseigneur; you will understand that it is only because I was requested, even implored, to do so."
"By whom?"
"Does not monsieur le comte divine? By Madame la Marquise de Santoval."
"That woman again! What! after causing me to fight with her husband!
after turning me to ridicule so abominably! she dares again---- Well!
what does she want with me?"
"This letter will tell you, monseigneur, I do not doubt."
"A letter from her! Ah! this is too much!--Let us see; I am curious to know what she can have to write to me."
Leodgard took the letter, and Bahuchet discreetly withdrew to the other end of the room.