CHAPTER XIX. THE TWO SOIREES

  Duchesne's story had unfortunately driven all memory of Bubbleton out ofmy head; and it was only as we entered the street where the Duchesse deMontserrat lived that I remembered my friend, and thought of asking thechevalier's advice about him.

  In a few words I explained so much of his character and situation as wasnecessary, and was going on to express my fears lest a temperament sounstable and uncertain should involve its possessor in much trouble,when Duchesne interrupted me by saying,--

  "Be of courage on that head. Your friend, if the man you describe him,is the very person to baffle the police. They can see to any depth, ifthe water be only clear; muddy it, and it matters little how shallow itbe. This Bubbleton might be of the greatest service just now; you mustpresent me to him, Burke."

  "Most willingly. But first promise that you will not involve my poorfriend in the snares of any plot. Heaven knows, his own faculties arequite sufficient for his mystification."

  "Plot! snares!--why, what are you thinking of? But come, this is ourhalting-place; and here we are, without my even having a moment to giveyou any account of my good aunt."

  As he spoke he turned the handle of a large door, which led into agloomy _porte cochere_, dimly illuminated by a single old-fashionedlantern. A fat, unwieldy-looking porter peeped at us from his den in theconciergerie; and then, having announced our approach by ringing a bell,he closed the shutter, and left us to find the way ourselves.

  Ascending the great spacious stair, the wall alongside which was coveredwith family portraits,--grim-looking heroes in mail, or prim dames withbouquets in their jewelled hands,--we reached a species of gallery, fromwhich several doors led off. Here a servant, dressed in deep black, wasstanding to announce the visitors.

  As the servant preceded us along the corridor, I could not help feelingthe contrast of this gloomy mansion, where every footstep had its ownsad echo, with the gorgeous splendor of the Hotel Clichy. Here, all wasdark, cold, and dreary; there, everything was lightsome, cheerful, andelegant. What an emblem, to my thinking, were they both of the dynastiesthey represented! But the reflection was only made as one half of thefolding-door was thrown open,--the double-door was the prerogative ofthe blood-royal,--and we were announced.

  The apartment--a large, sombre-looking one--was empty, however, and wetraversed this, and a second similar to it, our names being repeated asbefore; when at length the low tones of voices indicated our approach tothe _salon_ where the visitors were assembled.

  Dimly lighted by a few lamps, far apart from each other, the apartmentas we entered seemed even larger than it really was. At one end, arounda huge antique fireplace, sat a group of ladies, whom in a glance Irecognized as of the class so distinctively called dowager. They wereseated in deep-cushioned fauteuils, and were mostly employed in someembroidery work, which they laid down each time they spoke; and resumed,less to prosecute the labor, than, as it were, from mere habit.

  With all the insinuating gracefulness of a well-bred Frenchman, Duchesneapproached the seat next the chimney, and respectfully kissed the handextended towards him.

  "Permit me, my dear aunt, to present a very intimate friend,--CaptainBurke," said he, as he led me forward.

  At the mention of the word "captain," I could perceive that every handdropped its embroidery-frame, while the group stared at me with nofeigned astonishment. But already the duchess had vouchsafed a verypolite speech, and motioned me to a seat beside her; while the chevalierinsinuated himself among the rest, evidently bent on relieving the stiffand constrained reserve which pervaded the party. Not even his tact andworldly cleverness was equal to the task. The conversation, if suchit could be called, was conducted almost in monosyllables,--some strayquestion for an absent "marquise," or a muttered reply concerning a late"countess," was the burden; not an allusion even being made to any topicof the day, nor any phrase dropped which could show that the speakerswere aware of the year or the nation in which they lived and breathed.

  It was an inexpressible relief to me when gradually some three or fourother persons dropped in, some of them men, who, by their manner, seemedfavorites of the party. And soon after the entrance of the servantwith refreshments permitted a movement in the group, when I took theopportunity to stand up and approach Duchesne, as he bent over a table,listlessly turning over the leaves of a volume.

  "Just think of the contradictions of human nature, Burke," said he, in alow whisper. "These are the receptions for which the new noblessewould give half their wealth. These melancholy visits of worn-outacquaintances, these sapless twigs of humanity, are the envy ofsuch houses as the Hotel Clichy; and to be admitted to these gloomy,moth-eaten _salons_, is a greater honor than an invitation to theTuileries. So long as this exists, depend upon it, there is rottennessin the core of society. But come, let us take our leave; I see youare well wearied of all this. And now for an hour at Madame deLacostellerie's,--_en revanche_."

  As we came forward to make our adieux to the duchess, she rose from herseat, and in so doing her sleeve brushed against a small marble statueof Louis the Sixteenth, which, had I not opportunely caught it, wouldhave fallen to the ground.

  "Thank you, sir," said she, graciously. "You have prevented what Ishould have deemed a sad accident."

  "Nay, more, Aunt," said Duchesne, smiling; "he has shown his readinessto restore the Bourbon."

  This speech, evidently spoken in jest, was repeated from lip to lip inthe circle; and certainly I never felt my awkwardness more oppressivethan when bowing to the party, whose elated looks and pleasedcountenances now were turned towards me.

  "My poor, bashful friend," said Duchesne, as we descended the stair;"get rid of the habit of blushing with all convenient despatch. It hasmarred more fortunes than pharo or bouillotte."

  "This, assuredly, is well done!" said the chevalier, as he lookedaround him, while we slowly ascended the stairs of the Hotel Glichy:the brilliant light, almost rivalling day; the servants in gorgeousliveries; the air of wealth around on every side, so different fromthe sad-colored mansion of the Faubourg; while, as the opening doorspermitted it to be heard, the sound of delicious music came wafted tothe ear.

  "I say, Burke," said he, stopping suddenly, and laying his hand on myarm, "this might content a man who has seen as much as I have. And thegame is well worth the playing; so here goes!"

  The first person I saw as we entered the ante-chamber was Bubbleton. Hewas the centre of a knot of foreigners, who, whatever the topic, seemedhighly amused at his discourse.

  "That is your friend, yonder," said Duchesne. "He has the true type ofJohn Bull about him; introduce me at once."

  Duchesne scarcely permitted me to finish the introduction, when heextended his hand, and saluted Bubbleton with great cordiality; whilethe "general" did not suffer the ceremony to interrupt the flow ofhis eloquence, but continued to explain, in the most minute andcircumstantial manner, the conditions of the new peace secretlyconcluded between France and England. The incredulity of the listenerswas, I could perceive, considerably lessened by observing thedeferential attention with which Duchesne listened, only interruptingthe speaker by an occasional assent, or a passing question as to thepolitical relations of some of the great Powers.

  "As to Prussia," said Bubbleton, pompously--"as to Prussia--"

  "Well, what of Prussia, General?"

  "We have our doubts on that subject," replied he, looking thoughtfullyaround him on the group, who, completely deceived by Duchesne's manner,now paid him marked attention.

  "You'll not deprive her of Genoa, I trust," said the chevalier, with agravity almost inconceivable.

  "That is done already," said Bubbleton. "For my own part, I toldLauderdale we were nothing without the Bosphorus,--'the key of ourhouse, as your Emperor called it."

  "He spoke of Russia, if I don't err," said Duchesne, with an insinuatingair of correction.

  "Pardon me, you are wrong. I know Russia well. I travelled through thesteppes of Metchezaromizce with Pr
ince Drudeszitsch. We journeyed threehundred versts over his own estates, drawn on sledges by his serfs. Youare aware they are always harnessed by the beard, which they wear longand plaited on purpose."

  "That is towards the Crimea," interrupted the chevalier.

  "Precisely. I remember a curious incident which occurred one night aswe approached Chitepsk. (You know Chitepsk? It is where they confine thestate prisoners,--a miserable, dreary tract, where the snow never melts,and the frost is so intense you often see a drove of wolves glued fastto the snow by the feet, and howling fearfully: a strange sight, tobe sure!) Well, the night was falling, and a thin, cutting snowdriftbeginning to drop, when Dru (I always call him so,--short) said to me,--

  "'Bub' (he did the same to me) 'Bub,' said he, 'do you remark thatoff-side leader?'

  "'I see him,' said I.

  "'I have been watching the fellow since the last stage, and confound meif he has ever tightened a trace; and you see he is a right active one,notwithstanding. He capers along gayly enough. I 'll touch him up abit.' And with that he gave a flourish of his knouted whip, and camedown on him with a smarting cut. Lord, how he jumped! Five feet off theground at one spring! And, hang me, if he didn't tear off his beard!There it was, hanging to the pole! A very shocking sight, I mustconfess; though Dru did n't seem to mind it. However, we were obliged topull up, and get out the team. Well, you would not believe what we sawwhen we got down. You 'd never guess who was the off-leader. It was thePrincess Odoznovskoi! Poor thing! the last time I saw her, before that,she was dancing in the Amber Palace with Prince Alexander. She and herhusband had been banished to Chitepsk, and as he was ill, she had put ona false beard and was taking a short stage in his place."

  I did not venture to wait for more; but, leaving Duchesne to make themost of the general, passed onwards towards the _salon_, which alreadywas rapidly filling with visitors.

  The countess received me with more than wonted kindness of manner, andmademoiselle assumed a tone of actual cordiality I had never perceivedbefore; while, as she exchanged greetings with me, she said, in a lowvoice,--

  "Let me speak with you, in the picture-gallery, in half an hour."

  Before I could utter my assent she had passed on, and was speaking toanother.

  Somewhat curious to conceive what Mademoiselle de Lacostellerie mightmean by her appointment in the gallery, I avoided the groups where Iperceived my acquaintances were, and strolled negligently on towards theplace of meeting. The gallery was but half lighted, as was customary onmere nights of visiting, and I found it quite deserted. I was saunteringslowly along, musing on the strange effects of the half-seen pictures,where all, save the most forcible and striking tints, were sombred downto blackness, when I heard a step behind me. I turned my head, and sawmademoiselle herself. She was alone, and, though she evidently had seenme, continued to walk onward, without speaking, towards a small boudoir,which occupied one angle of the gallery. I followed, and we entered ittogether.

  There was something in the secret interview which, while it excited mycuriosity, served at once to convince me that had I indulged in any hopeof succeeding to her affections, nothing could be less promising,--thisvery proof of her confidence was the strongest earnest of herindifference. But, indeed, I had never any such expectation. My pridemight have been flattered by such a supposition; my heart could neverhave sympathized in the emotion.

  "We are alone here," said she, hurriedly, "and we may be missed; so letme be brief. It will seem strange that I should ask you to meet me here,but I could not help it. You alone, of all who frequent this, have neverpaid me the least attention, nor seemed disposed to flatter me; thisleads me to trust you. I have no other reason but that, and because I amfriendless." There was a tremulous sadness in the last word whichwent to my heart, and I could mark that her breathing was hurriedand irregular for some few seconds after. "Will you promise me yourfriendship in what I ask? or, if that be too much, will you pledgeyourself at least to secrecy? Enough, I am quite satisfied. Now, tellme, who is this Chevalier Duchesne?--what is he?"

  I ran over in a few words all I knew of him, dwelling on whatever mightmost redound to his credit; his distinguished military career, hisundoubted talent, and, lastly, alluding to his family, to which Iconceived the question might most probably apply.

  "Oh, it is not that," said she, vehemently, "I wish to know. I care notfor his bravery, nor his birth either. Tell me, what are the sources ofhis power? How is he admitted everywhere, intimate with every one, withinfluence over all? Why does Fouche fear, and Talleyrand admit him? Iknow they do this; and can you give me no clew, however faint, toguide me? The Comte de Lacostellerie was refused the Spanish contract;Duchesne interferes, and it is given him. There is a difficulty about acard for a private concert at St. Cloud; Duchesne sends it. Nor does itend here. _You_ know"--here her voice assumed a forced distinctness,as though it cost her an effort to speak calmly--"of his duel with thePrince Dobretski; but perhaps you may not know how he has obtained animperial order for his recall to St. Petersburg?"

  "Of that I never heard. Can it be possible?"

  "Have you, then, never tasted of his arbitrary power," said she, smilinghalf superciliously, "that these things seem strange to you? or doeshe work so secretly that even those most intimate with him are inignorance? But this must be so." She paused for a second or two, andthen went on: "And now, brief as our acquaintance with him has been, seewhat influence he already possesses over my mother! Even to her I darenot whisper my suspicions; while to you, a stranger," added she, withemotion, "I must speak my fears."

  "But are they not groundless?" said I, endeavoring to calm the agitationshe suffered from. "In all that you have mentioned, I can but trace thedevotion of one seeking to serve, not injure; to be loved, not dreaded."

  Scarce had I said these words, when I heard a noise behind me, andbefore I could turn round, Duchesne stood beside us.

  "I implore your pardon, Mademoiselle," said he, in a voice ofwell-affected timidity, "nor should I venture to interrupt sointeresting a conference, but that the Comtesse de Lacostellerie hadsent me to look for you."

  "You could scarcely have come more apropos, sir. The conversation wasentirely of yourself," said she, haughtily, as if in defiance of him.

  "How could I possibly have merited so great an honor, Mademoiselle?"replied he, bowing with the deepest respect; "or is it to the kindnessof a _friend_ I am indebted for such interest?"

  There was an evident sneer in the way he uttered the word "friend,"while a sidelong glance he gave beneath his deep eyelashes was stillmore decisive of his feeling.

  "Few probably owe more to their friends than the Chevalier Duchesne,"said mademoiselle, tauntingly, as she took my arm to return to the_salon_.

  "True, most true!" replied he, with a low and deferential bow; "and Ihope I am not the man to forget my debts to either friends or enemies."

  I turned round rapidly as he said this. Our eyes met, and we exchanged ashort, brief glance of open defiance. His, however, as quickly changed;and an easy smile of careless indifference succeeded, as he loungedafter us towards the _salon_, where now a considerable number ofpersons were assembled, and a more than usual excitement prevailed. Somegenerals of the imperial staff were also there; and the rumor ran thatthe negotiations with England had been suddenly interrupted, and thatthe negotiators had demanded their passports.

  "That is not all, Madame," said an old officer to the countess. "Theaccounts from Mayence are threatening. Large bodies of Prussian troopsare reported on the march from the eastward. The telegraph has beenactively at work since noon, and several couriers have been sent offfrom the War Office."

  "What is to come next?" said the countess, sighing, as she thoughtof Paris once more deserted by its gay Court and brilliant crowd ofofficers, the only society of the period.

  "What next, Madame?" said Duchesne, taking up the word. "_Parbleu!_ thething is easily told. A conscription, a march, a bivouac, and a battlewill form act the first. Then a victory; and
a bulletin and an imperialedict, showing that Prussia, both by her language and geographicalposition, was intended by Providence to belong to France; that Prussianshave no dearer wish than to be thrashed and taxed,--the honor ofbecoming a portion of the Grande Nation being an ample recompense forany misfortune."

  "And so it is, Monsieur," broke in a bluff, hard-featured veteran, whosecoarse and weather-beaten traits bespoke one risen from the ranks; "heis no Frenchman who says otherwise."

  "To your good health, Colonel," said Duchesne, as he lifted a glassof champagne to his lips. "Such patriotism is really refreshing in ourdegenerate days. I wish you every success in your campaign; though whatis to reward your valor in that miserable land of beer and ProtestantismI cannot possibly conceive."

  "To-morrow; let me see you to-morrow, in the afternoon." saidmademoiselle, in a whisper, as she passed close to me.

  As I nodded in acknowledgment, Duchesne turned slightly around, and Isaw in his eyes he had overheard the words, though uttered in a merewhisper. Still he went on,--

  "As for us who remain ingloriously behind you, we have nothing to do butto read your exploits in the 'Moniteur.' And would to Heaven the worthyeditor would print his battles in better fashion! The whole page usuallylooks more like a beaten than a conquering army; wounded vowels andbroken consonants at every step, and the capital letters awkward,hard-featured fellows, as though risen from the ranks."

  "_Tonnerre de Dieu_, sir! do you mean an insult to me?" said the oldcolonel, in a voice which, though intended for a whisper, was heard overthe whole circle.

  "An insult, my dear colonel? nothing within a thousand leagues ofsuch. I was only speaking of the 'type' of our army, which may be veryefficient, but is scarcely too good-looking."

  No words can convey the sarcastic tone in which the speech wasdelivered, nor the mortification of the indignant colonel, who felt, butknew not how to reply to, such a taunt. Happily Madame de Lacostellerieinterposed, and by skilfully changing the topic of conversation, avertedfurther unpleasantness.

  My desire to learn something accurately as to the state of events mademe anxious to reach my quarters, and I took the first opportunity ofquitting the _salon_. As I passed through the outer room, Duchesnewas standing against a sideboard, holding a glass in his hand. It wasnecessary that I should pass him closely, and I was preparing to salutehim with the distant courtesy of our present acquaintance, when he said,in his former tone of easy raillery,--

  "Going so early? Won't you have a glass of wine before you leave?"

  "No, I thank you," said I, coldly, and going on towards the door.

  "Nor wait for the concert; Grassini will be here in half an hour?"

  I shook my head in negation; and as I passed out I heard him humming,with an emphasis which there was no mistaking, the couplet of a popularsong of the day which concluded thus,--

  "To-day for me; To-morrow for thee,--But will that to-morrow ever be?"

  That Duchesne intended to challenge me seemed now almost certain; and Iran over in my mind the few names of those I could ask to be my friendson such an occasion, but without being able to satisfy myself on thesubject. A moment's recollection might have taught me that it was amaxim with the chevalier never to send a message, but in every caseto make the adversary the aggressor; he had told me so over and overhimself. That, however, did not occur to me at the moment, and I walkedonward, thinking of our meeting. Could I have known what was passing in_his_ mind, I should have spared many serious and some sad thoughts tomy own.