Thereupon Frederick revenged himself on the Vicomte by making him believe that he might be prosecuted as a Legitimist. The other urged by way of reply that he had not stirred outside his own room. His adversary enumerated in a heap the possible mischances. MM. Dambreuse and Grémonville found the discussion very amusing. Then they paid Frederick compliments, while expressing regret at the same time that he did not employ his abilities in the defence of order. They grasped his hand with the utmost warmth; he might for the future count on them. At last, just as everyone was leaving, the Vicomte made a low bow to Cécile:
“Mademoiselle, I have the honour of wishing you a very good evening.”
She replied coldly:
“Good evening.” But she gave Martinon a parting smile.
Père Roque, in order to continue the conversation between himself and Arnoux, offered to see him home, “as well as Madame”—they were going the same way. Louise and Frederick walked in front of them. She had caught hold of his arm; and, when she was some distance away from the others she said:
“Ah! at last! at last! I’ve had enough to bear all the evening! How nasty those women were! What haughty airs they had!”
He made an effort to defend them.
“First of all, you might certainly have spoken to me the moment you came in, after being away a whole year!”
“It was not a year,” said Frederick, glad to be able to give some sort of rejoinder on this point in order to avoid the other questions.
“Be it so; the time appeared very long to me, that’s all. But, during this horrid dinner, one would think you felt ashamed of me. Ah! I understand—I don’t possess what is needed in order to please as they do.”
“You are mistaken,” said Frederick.
“Really! Swear to me that you don’t love anyone!”
He did swear.
“You love nobody but me alone?”
“I assure you, I do not.”
This assurance filled her with delight. She would have liked to lose her way in the streets, so that they might walk about together the whole night.
“I have been so much tormented down there! Nothing was talked about but barricades. I imagined I saw you falling on your back covered with blood! Your mother was confined to her bed with rheumatism. She knew nothing about what was happening. I had to hold my tongue. I could stand it no longer, so I took Catherine with me.”
And she related to him all about her departure, her journey, and the lie she told her father.
“He’s bringing me back in two days. Come tomorrow evening, as if you were merely paying a casual visit, and take advantage of the opportunity to ask for my hand in marriage.”
Never had Frederick been further from the idea of marriage. Besides, Mademoiselle Roque appeared to him a rather absurd young person. How different she was from a woman like Madame Dambreuse! A very different future was in store for him. He had found reason today to feel perfectly certain on that point; and, therefore, this was not the time to involve himself, from mere sentimental motives, in a step of such momentous importance. It was necessary now to be decisive—and then he had seen Madame Arnoux once more. Nevertheless he was rather embarrassed by Louise’s candour.
He said in reply to her last words:
“Have you considered this matter?”
“How is that?” she exclaimed, frozen with astonishment and indignation.
He said that to marry at such a time as this would be a piece of folly.
“So you don’t want to have me?”
“Nay, you don’t understand me!”
And he plunged into a confused mass of verbiage in order to impress upon her that he was kept back by more serious considerations; that he had business on hand which it would take a long time to dispose of; that even his inheritance had been placed in jeopardy (Louise cut all this explanation short with one plain word); that, last of all, the present political situation made the thing undesirable. So, then, the most reasonable course was to wait patiently for some time. Matters would, no doubt, right themselves—at least, he hoped so; and, as he could think of no further grounds to go upon just at that moment, he pretended to have been suddenly reminded that he should have been with Dussardier two hours ago.
Then, bowing to the others, he darted down the Rue Hauteville, took a turn round the Gymnase, returned to the boulevard, and quickly rushed up Rosanette’s four flights of stairs.
M. and Madame Arnoux left Père Roque and his daughter at the entrance of the Rue Saint-Denis. Husband and wife returned home without exchanging a word, as he was unable to continue chattering any longer, feeling quite worn out. She even leaned against his shoulder. He was the only man who had displayed any honourable sentiments during the evening. She entertained towards him feelings of the utmost indulgence. Meanwhile, he cherished a certain degree of spite against Frederick.
“Did you notice his face
