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"A prince, monsieur, a prince!"
"Yes; a Spaniard, who is in correspondence with the 'Madrid Mercury,'
and sends all the news from Paris."
"Oh! that is a great honor."
"It will give you some trouble, however, for all the dispatches are in Spanish."
"Diable!" said Buvat.
"Do you know Spanish?" asked D'Harmental.
"No, monsieur; I do not think so, at least."
"Never mind," continued the chevalier, smiling; "one need not know a language to copy it."
"I could copy Chinese, monsieur; caligraphy, like drawing, is an imitative art."
"And I know that in this respect, Monsieur Buvat," replied D'Harmental, "you are a great artist."
"Monsieur," said Buvat, "you embarra.s.s me. May I ask, without indiscretion, at what time I shall find his highness?"
"What highness?"
"His highness the prince--I do not remember the name you said," replied Buvat.
"Ah! the Prince de Listhnay."
"Himself."
"He is not highness, my dear Monsieur Buvat."
"Oh! I thought all princes--"
"This is only a prince of the third order, and he will be quite satisfied if you call him monseigneur."
"You think so?"
"I am sure of it."
"And when shall I find him?"
"After your dinner; from five to half-past five. You remember the address?"
"Yes; Rue du Bac, 110. I will be there, monsieur."
"Now," said D'Harmental, "au revoir! And you, mademoiselle," said he, turning to Bathilde, "receive my thanks for your kindness in keeping me company while I waited for M. Buvat--a kindness for which I shall be eternally grateful."
And D'Harmental took his leave, while Bathilde remained astonished at his ease and a.s.surance in such a situation.
"This young man is really very amiable," said Buvat.
"Yes, very," said Bathilde, mechanically.
"But it is an extraordinary thing; I think I have seen him before."
"It is possible," said Bathilde.
"And his voice--I am sure I know his voice."
Bathilde started; for she remembered the evening when Buvat had returned frightened from the adventure in the Rue des Bons Enfants, and D'Harmental had not spoken of that adventure. At this moment Nanette entered, announcing dinner. Buvat instantly went into the other room.
"Well, mademoiselle," said Nanette softly, "the handsome young man came, then, after all?"
"Yes, Nanette, yes," answered Bathilde, raising her eyes to heaven with an expression of infinite grat.i.tude, "and I am very happy."
She pa.s.sed in to the dining-room, where Buvat, who had put down his hat and stick on a chair, was waiting for her, and slapping his thighs with his hands, as was his custom in his moments of extreme satisfaction.
As to D'Harmental, he was no less happy than Bathilde; he was loved--he was sure of it; Bathilde had told him so, with the same pleasure she had felt on hearing him make the same declaration. He was loved; not by a poor orphan, not by a little grisette, but by a young girl of rank, whose father and mother had occupied an honorable position at court.
There were, then, no obstacles to their union, there was no social interval between them. It is true that D'Harmental forgot the conspiracy, which might at any time open an abyss under his feet and engulf him. Bathilde had no doubts for the future; and when Buvat, after dinner, took his hat and cane to go to the Prince de Listhnay's, she first fell on her knees to thank G.o.d, and then, without hesitation, went to open the window so long closed. D'Harmental was still at his. They had very soon settled their plans, and taken Nanette into their confidence. Every day, when Buvat was gone, D'Harmental was to come and stay two hours with Bathilde. The rest of the time would be pa.s.sed at the windows, or, if by chance these must be closed, they could write to each other. Toward seven o'clock they saw Buvat turning the corner of the Rue Montmartre; he carried a roll of paper in one hand, and his cane in the other, and by his important air, it was easy to see that he had spoken to the prince himself. D'Harmental closed his window. Bathilde had seen Buvat set out with some uneasiness, for she feared that this story of the Prince de Listhnay was only an invention to explain D'Harmental's presence. The joyous expression of Buvat's face, however, quite rea.s.sured her.
"Well!" said she.
"Well! I have seen his highness."
"But, you know," answered Bathilde, "that M. Raoul said the Prince de Listhnay had no right to that t.i.tle, and was only a prince of the third order."
"I guarantee him of the first," said Buvat, "sabre de bois! a man of five feet ten, who throws his money about, and pays for copies at fifteen francs the page, and has given twenty-five louis in advance!"
Then another fear began to come into Bathilde's mind, that this pretended customer, whom Raoul had found for Buvat, was only a pretext to induce him to accept money. This fear had in it something humiliating; Bathilde turned her eyes toward D'Harmental's window, but she saw D'Harmental looking at her with so much love through the gla.s.s, that she thought of nothing but looking at him in return, which she did for so long, that Buvat came forward to see what was attracting her attention; but D'Harmental, seeing him, let fall the curtain.
"Well, then," said Bathilde, wis.h.i.+ng to turn off his attention, "you are content?"
"Quite; but I must tell you one thing."
"What is it?"
"You remember that I told you that I thought I recognized the face and voice of this young man, but could not tell you where I had seen or heard them?"
"Yes, you told me so."
"Well, it suddenly struck me to-day, as I was crossing the Rue des Bons Enfants, that it was the same young man whom I saw on that terrible night, of which I cannot think without trembling."
"What folly!" said Bathilde, trembling, however, herself.
"I was on the point of returning, however, for I thought this prince might be some brigand chief, and that they were going to entice me into a cavern; but as I never carry any money, I thought that my fears were exaggerated, and so I went on."
"And now you are convinced, I suppose," replied Bathilde, "that this poor young man, who came from the Abbe Brigaud, has no connection with him of the Rue des Bons Enfants."