"Speaking of Bardelys, Monsieur de Lesperon - ""My dear Chevalier, we were no longer speaking of him."He smiled darkly. "Let us speak of him, then.""But are there not a thousand more interesting things that we might speak of?"This he took for a fresh sign of fear, and so he pressed what he accounted his advantage.
"Yet have patience; there is a point on which perhaps you can give me some information.""Impossible," said I.
"Are you acquainted with the Duchesse de Bourgogne?""I was," I answered casually, and as casually I added, "Are you?""Excellently well," he replied unhesitatingly. "I was in Paris at the time of the scandal with Bardelys."I looked up quickly.
"Was it then that you met her?" I inquired in an idle sort of way.
"Yes. I was in the confidence of Bardelys, and one night after we had supped at his hotel - one of those suppers graced by every wit in Paris - he asked me if I were minded to accompany him to the Louvre. We went. A masque was in progress.""Ah," said I, after the manner of one who suddenly takes in the entire situation; "and it was at this masque that you met the Duchesse?""You have guessed it. Ah, monsieur, if I were to tell you of the things that I witnessed that night, they would amaze you," said he, with a great air and a casual glance at Mademoiselle to see into what depth of wonder these glimpses into his wicked past were plunging her.
"I doubt it not," said I, thinking that if his imagination were as fertile in that connection as it had been in mine he was likely, indeed, to have some amazing things to tell. "But do I understand you to say that that was the time of the scandal you have touched upon?""The scandal burst three days after that masque. It came as a surprise to most people. As for me - from what Bardelys had told me - I expected nothing less.""Pardon, Chevalier, but how old do you happen to be?""A curious question that," said he, knitting his brows.
"Perhaps. But will you not answer it?"
"I am twenty-one," said he. "What of it?""You are twenty, mon cousin," Roxalanne corrected him.
He looked at her a second with an injured air.
"Why, true - twenty! That is so," he acquiesced; and again, "what of it?" he demanded.
"What of it, monsieur?" I echoed. "Will you forgive me if Iexpress amazement at your precocity, and congratulate you upon it?"His brows went if possible closer together and his face grew very red. He knew that somewhere a pitfall awaited him, yet hardly where.
"I do not understand you."
"Bethink you, Chevalier. Ten years have flown since this scandal you refer to. So that at the time of your supping with Bardelys and the wits of Paris, at the time of his ****** a confidant of you and carrying you off to a masque at the Louvre, at the time of his presenting you to the Duchesse de Bourgogne, you were just ten years of age. I never had cause to think over-well of Bardelys, but had you not told me yourself, I should have hesitated to believe him so vile a despoiler of innocence, such a perverter of youth."He crimsoned to the very roots of his hair.
Roxalanne broke into a laugh. "My cousin, my cousin," she cried, "they that would become masters should begin early, is it not so?""Monsieur de Lesperon," said he, in a very formal voice, "do you wish me to apprehend that you have put me through this catechi** for the purpose of casting a doubt upon what I have said?""But have I done that? Have I cast a doubt?" I asked, with the utmost meekness.
"So I apprehend."
"Then you apprehend amiss. Your words, I assure you, admit of no doubt whatever. And now, monsieur, if you will have mercy upon me, we will talk of other things. I am so weary of this unfortunate Bardelys and his affairs. He may be the fashion of Paris and at Court, but down here his very name befouls the air. Mademoiselle,"I said, turning to Roxalanne, "you promised me a lesson in the lore of flowers.""Come, then," said she, and, being an exceedingly wise child, she plunged straightway into the history of the shrubs about us.
Thus did we avert a storm that for a moment was very imminent. Yet some mischief was done, and some good, too, perhaps. For if I made an enemy of the Chevalier de Saint-Eustache by humbling him in the eyes of the one woman before whom he sought to shine, I established a bond 'twixt Roxalanne and myself by that same humiliation of a foolish coxcomb, whose boastfulness had long wearied her.
