That night the Grand Duke was somewhat impeded in falling asleep. He was
seriously annoyed by the upsetment of his escape from the Noumarian exile,
since he felt that he had prodigally fulfilled his obligations, and in
consequence deserved a holiday; the duchy was committed past retreat to the
French alliance, there were two legitimate children to reign after him, and
be the puppets of de Puysange and de Bernis, [Footnote: The Grand Duke,
however, owed de Puysange some reparation for having begot a child upon the
latter's wife; and with de Bernis had not dissimilar ties, for the Marquis
de Soyecourt had in Venice, in 1749, relinquished to him the beautiful nun
of Muran, Maria Montepulci,--which lady de Bernis subsequently turned over
to Giacomo Casanova, as is duly recorded in the latter's _Mémoires_, under
the year 1753.] just as he had been. Truly, it was diverting, after a
candid appraisal of his own merits, to reflect that a dwarfish Louis de
Soyecourt had succeeded where quite impeccable people like Bayard and du
Guesclin had failed; by four years of scandalous living in Noumaria he
had confirmed the duchy to the French interest, had thereby secured the
wavering friendship of Austria, and had, in effect, set France upon her
feet. Yes, the deed was notable, and he wanted his reward.
To be the forsaken husband, to play Sgarnarelle with all Europe as an
audience, was, he considered, an entirely inadequate reward. That was out
of the question, for, deuce take it! somebody had to be Regent while
the brats were growing up. And Victoria, as he had said, would make an
admirable Regent.
He was rather fond of his wife than otherwise. He appreciated the fact that
she never meddled with him, and he sincerely regretted she should have
taken a fancy to that good-for-nothing de Châteauroux. What qualms the poor
woman must be feeling at this very moment over the imminent loss of her
virtue! But love was a cruel and unreasonable lord.... There was Nelchen
Thorn, for instance.... He wondered would he have been happy with Nelchen?
her hands were rather coarse about the finger-tips, as he remembered
them.... The hands of Amalia, though, were perfection....
Then at last the body that had been Louis Quillan's fell asleep.
V
Discontentedly the Grand Duke appraised the scene, and in the murky
twilight which heralded the day he found the world a cheerless place. The
Gardens of Breschau were deserted, save for a travelling carriage and
its fretful horses, who stamped and snuffled within forty yards of the
summer-house.
"It appears," he said, "that I am the first on the ground, and that de
Châteauroux is a dilatory lover. Young men degenerate."
Saying this, he seated himself on a convenient bench, where de Châteauroux
found him a few minutes later, and promptly dropped a portmanteau at the
ducal feet.
"Monsieur le Comte," the Grand Duke said, "this is an unforeseen pleasure."
"Your Highness!" cried de Châteauroux, in astonishment.
"_Ludovicus_," said the Grand Duke, "_Dei gratia Archi Dux Noumariæ,
Princeps Gatinensis_, and so on." And de Châteauroux caressed his chin.
"I did not know," said the Grand Duke, "that you were such an early riser.
Or perhaps," he continued, "you are late in retiring. Fy, fy, monsieur! you
must be more careful! You must not create a scandal in our little Court."
He shook his finger knowingly at Philippe de Châteauroux.
"Your Highness,--" said the latter, and stammered into silence.
"You said that before," the Grand Duke leisurely observed.
"An affair of business--"
"Ah! ah! ah!" said the Grand Duke, casting his eye first toward the
portmanteau and then toward the carriage, "can it be that you are leaving
Noumaria? We shall miss you, Comte."
"I was summoned very hastily, or I would have paid my respects to your
Highness--"
"Indeed," said the Grand Duke, "your departure is of a deplorable
suddenness--"
"It is urgent, your Highness--"
"--and yet," pursued the Grand Duke, "travel is beneficial to young men."
"I shall not go far, your Highness--"
"Nay, I would not for the world intrude upon your secrets, Comte--"
"--But my estates, your Highness--"
"--For young men will be young men, I know."
"--There is, your Highness, to be a sale of meadow land--"
"Which you will find, I trust, untilled."
"--And my counsellor at law, your Highness, is imperative--"
"At times," agreed the Grand Duke, "the most subtle of counsellors is
unreasonable. I trust, though, that she is handsome?"
"Ah, your Highness--!" cried de Châteauroux.
"And you have my blessing upon your culture of those meadow lands. Go in
peace."
The Grand Duke was smiling on his wife's kinsman with extreme benevolence
when the Baroness von Altenburg appeared in travelling costume and carrying
a portmanteau.