“What does this mean?” inquired Raoul of Malicorne; “you probably know?”
“I do, Monsieur.”
“For pity’s sake, tell me, then.”
“Impossible, Monsieur.”
“Why so?”
“Because Mademoiselle Aure has forbidden me to do so.”
Raoul looked at his strange visitor, and remained silent;—“At least, tell me whether it is fortunate or unfortunate.”
“That you will see.”
“You are very severe in your reservations.”
“Will you grant me one favor, Monsieur?” said Malicorne.
“In exchange for that you refuse me?”
“Precisely.”
“What is it?”
“I have the greatest desire to see the ceremony, and I have no ticket to admit me, in spite of all the steps I have taken to secure one. Could you get me admitted?”
“Certainly.”
“Do me this kindness, then, I entreat.”
“Most willingly, Monsieur; come with me.”
“I am exceedingly indebted to you, Monsieur,” said Malicorne.
“I thought you were a friend of M. de Manicamp.”
“I am, Monsieur; but this morning I was with him as he was dressing, and I let a bottle of blacking fall over his new dress, and he flew at me sword in hand, so that I was obliged to make my escape. That is the reason I could not ask him for a ticket. He wanted to kill me.”
“I can well believe it,” laughed Raoul. “I know Manicamp is capable of killing a man who has been unfortunate enough to commit the crime you have to reproach yourself with, but I will repair the mischief as far as you are concerned. I will but fasten my cloak, and shall then be ready to serve you, not only as a guide, but as your introducer, too.”
89
The Surprise of Madame de Montalais
Madame’s marriage was celebrated in the chapel of the Palais Royal, in the presence of a crowd of courtiers, who had been most scrupulously selected. However, notwithstanding the marked favor which an invitation indicated, Raoul, faithful to his promise to Malicorne, who was so anxious to witness the ceremony, obtained admission for him. After he had fulfilled this engagement, Raoul approached de Guiche, who, as if in contrast with his magnificent costume, exhibited a countenance so utterly dejected, that the Duke of Buckingham was the only one present who could contend with him as far as pallor and discomfiture were concerned.
“Take care, count,” said Raoul, approaching his friend, and preparing to support him at the moment the archbishop blessed the married couple. In fact, the Prince of Condé was attentively scrutinizing these two images of desolation, standing like caryatides on either side of the nave of the church. The count, after that, kept a more careful watch over himself.
At the termination of the ceremony, the king and queen passed onward towards the grand reception-room, where Madame and her suite were to be presented to them. It was remarked that the king, who had seemed more than surprised at his sister-in-law’s appearance, was most flattering in his compliments to her. Again, it was remarked that the queen-mother, fixing a long and thoughtful gaze upon Buckingham, leaned towards Madame de Motteville as though to ask her, “Do you not see how much he resembles his father?” and finally it was remarked that Monsieur watched everybody, and seemed quite discontented. After the reception of the princess and ambassadors, Monsieur solicited the king’s permission to present to him as well as to Madame the persons belonging to their new household.
“Are you aware, vicomte,” inquired the Prince de Condé of Raoul, “whether the household has been selected by a person of taste, and whether there are any faces worth looking at?”
“I have not the slightest idea, Monseigneur,” replied Raoul.
“You affect ignorance, surely.”
“In what way, Monseigneur?”
“You are a friend of de Guiche, who is one of the friends of the prince.”
“That may be so, Monseigneur; but the matter having no interest whatever for me, I have never questioned de Guiche on the subject; and de Guiche, on his part, never having been questioned, did not communicate any particulars to me.”
“But Manicamp?”
“It is true I saw Manicamp at Le Havre, and during the journey here, but I was no more inquisitive with him than I had been towards de Guiche. Besides, is it likely that Manicamp should know anything of such matters? for he is a person of only secondary importance.”
“My dear vicomte, do you not know better than that?” said the prince; “why, it is these persons of secondary importance, who, on such occasions, have all the influence; and the truth is, that nearly everything has been done through Manicamp’s presentations to de Guiche, and through de Guiche to Monsieur.”
“I assure you, Monseigneur, I was ignorant of that,” said Raoul, “and what Your Highness does me the honor to impart is perfectly new to me.”
“I will most readily believe you, although it seems incredible; besides we shall not have long to wait. See, the flying squadron is advancing, as good Queen Catherine used to say. Ah! ah! what pretty faces!”
A bevy of young girls at this moment entered the salon, conducted by Madame de Navailles, and to Manicamp’s credit be it said, if indeed he had taken that part in their selection which the Prince de Condé assigned him, it was a display calculated to dazzle those who, like the prince, could appreciate every character and style of beauty. A young, fair-complexioned girl, from twenty to one-and-twenty years of age, and whose large blue eyes flashed, as she opened them, in the most dazzling manner, walked at the head of the band and was the first presented.
“Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente,” said Madame de Navailles to Monsieur, who, as he saluted his wife, repeated “Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente.”
“Ah! ah!” said the Prince de Condé to Raoul, “she is presentable enough.”
“Yes,” said Raoul, “but has she not a somewhat haughty style?”
“Bah! we know these airs very well, vicomte; three months hence she will be tame enough. But look, there, indeed, is a pretty face.”
“Yes,” said Raoul, “and one I am acquainted with.”
“Mademoiselle Aure de Montalais,” said Madame de Navailles. The name and Christian name
