M. de Rosny had risen from my side and started on his journey when I
opened my eyes in the morning, and awoke to the memory of the task which
had been so strangely imposed upon me; and which might, according as
the events of the next fortnight shaped themselves, raise me to high
position or put an end to my career. He had not forgotten to leave
a souvenir behind him, for I found beside my pillow a handsome
silver-mounted pistol, bearing the letter ‘R.’ and a coronet; nor had
I more than discovered this instance of his kindness before Simon Fleix
came in to tell me that M. de Rosny had left two hundred crowns in his
hands for me.
‘Any message with it?’ I asked the lad.
‘Only that; he had taken a keepsake in exchange,’ Simon answered,
opening the window as he spoke.
In some wonder I began to search, but I could not discover that anything
was missing until I came to put on my doublet, when I found that the
knot of ribbon which mademoiselle had flung to me at my departure from
Rosny was gone from the inside of the breast, where I had pinned it for
safety with a long thorn. The discovery that M. de Rosny had taken this
was displeasing to me on more than one account. In the first place,
whether mademoiselle had merely wished to plague me (as was most
probable) or not, I was loth to lose it, my day for ladies’ favours
being past and gone; in the second, I misdoubted the motive which
had led him to purloin it, and tormented myself with thinking of the
different constructions he might put upon it, and the disparaging view
of my trust worthiness which it might lead him to take. I blamed myself
much for my carelessness in leaving it where a chance eye might rest
upon it; and more when, questioning Simon further, I learned that M.
de Rosny had added, while mounting at the door, ‘Tell your master, safe
bind, safe find; and a careless lover makes a loose mistress.’
I felt my cheek burn in a manner unbecoming my years while Simon with
some touch of malice repeated this; and I made a vow on the spot, which
I kept until I was tempted to break it, to have no more to do with such
trifles. Meanwhile, I had to make the best of it; and brisking up, and
bidding Simon, who seemed depressed by the baron’s departure, brisk up
also, I set about my preparations for making such a figure at Court
as became me: procuring a black velvet suit, and a cap and feather to
match; item, a jewelled clasp to secure the feather; with a yard or two
of lace and two changes of fine linen.
Simon had grown sleek at Rosny, and losing something of the wildness
which had marked him, presented in the dress M. de Rosny had given him
a very creditable appearance; being also, I fancy, the only equerry in
Blois who could write. A groom I engaged on the recommendation of M. de
Rambouillet’s master of the horse; and I gave out also that I required a
couple of valets. It needed only an hour under the barber’s hands and a
set of new trappings for the Cid to enable me to make a fair show, such
as might be taken to indicate a man of ten or twelve thousand livres a
year.
In this way I expended a hundred and fifteen crowns reflecting that
this was a large sum, and that I must keep some money for play, I was
glad to learn that in the crowded state of the city even men with high
rank were putting up with poor lodging; I determined, therefore, to
combine economy with a scheme which I had in my head by taking the rooms
in which my mother died, with one room below them. This I did, hiring
such furniture as I needed, which was not a great deal. To Simon Fleix,
whose assistance in these matters was invaluable, I passed on much of M.
de Rosny’s advice, bidding him ruffle it with the best in his station,
and inciting him to labour for my advancement by promising to make his
fortune whenever my own should be assured. I hoped, indeed, to derive
no little advantage from the quickness of wit; which had attracted M. de
Rosny’s attention; although I did not fail to take into account at the
same time that the lad was wayward and fitful, prone at one time to
depression, and at another to giddiness, and equally uncertain in either
mood.
M. de Rambouillet being unable to attend the LEVEE, had appointed me to
wait upon him at six in the evening; at which hour I presented myself at
his lodgings, attended by Simon Fleix. I found him in the midst of
half a dozen gentlemen whose habit it was to attend him upon all public
occasions; and these gallants, greeting me with the same curious and
suspicious glances which I have seen hounds bestow on a strange dog
introduced into their kennel, I was speedily made to feel that it is one
thing to have business at Court, and another to be well received there.
M. de Rambouillet, somewhat to my surprise, did nothing to remove
this impression. On all ordinary occasions a man of stiff and haughty
bearing, and thoroughly disliking, though he could not prevent, the
intrusion of a third party into a transaction which promised an infinity
of credit, he received me so coldly and with so much reserve as for the
moment to dash my spirits and throw me back on myself.
During the journey to the castle, however, which we performed on foot,
attended by half a dozen armed servants bearing torches, I had time to
recall M. de Rosny’s advice, and to bethink me of the intimacy which
that great man had permitted me; with so much effect in the way of
heartening me, that as we crossed the courtyard of the castle I
advanced myself, not without some murmuring on the part of others, to
Rambouillet’s elbow, considering that as I was attached to him by the
king’s command, this was my proper place. I had no desire to quarrel,
however, and persisted for some time in disregarding the nudges and
muttered words which were exchanged round me, and even the efforts which
were made as we mounted the stairs to oust me from my position. But
a young gentleman, who showed himself very forward in these attempts,
presently stumbling against me, I found it necessary to look at him.
‘Sir,’ he said, in a small and lisping voice, ‘you trod on my toe.’
Though I had not done so, I begged his pardon very politely. But as his
only acknowledgment of this courtesy consisted in an attempt to get his
knee in front of mine--we were mounting very slowly, the stairs being
cumbered with a multitude of servants, who stood on either hand--I did
tread on his toe, with a force and directness which made him cry out.
‘What is the matter?’ Rambouillet asked, looking back hastily.
‘Nothing, M. le Marquis,’ I answered, pressing on steadfastly.
‘Sir,’ my young friend said again, in the same lisping voice, ‘you trod
on my toe.’
‘I believe I did, sir,’ I answered.
‘You have not yet apologised,’ he murmured gently in my ear.
‘Nay, there you are wrong,’ I rejoined bluntly, ‘for it is always my
habit to apologise first and tread afterwards.’
He smiled as at a pleasant joke; and I am bound to say that his bearing
was so admirable that if he had been my son I could have hugged him.
‘Good!’ he answered. ‘No doubt your sword is as sharp as your wits,
sir. I see,’ he continued, glancing naively at my old scabbard--he
was himself the very gem of a courtier, a slender youth with a
pink-and-white complexion, a dark line for a moustache, and a pearl-drop
in his ear--‘it is longing to be out. Perhaps you will take a turn in
the tennis-court to-morrow?’
‘With pleasure, sir,’ I answered, ‘if you have a father, or your elder
brother is grown up.’
What answer he would have made to this gibe I do not know, for at that
moment we reached the door of the ante-chamber; and this being narrow,
and a sentry in the grey uniform of the Swiss Guard compelling all to
enter in single file, my young friend was forced to fall back, leaving
me free to enter alone, and admire at my leisure a scene at once
brilliant and sombre.
The Court being in mourning for the Queen-mother, black predominated
in the dresses of those present, and set off very finely the gleaming
jewels and gemmed sword-hilts which were worn by the more important
personages. The room was spacious and lofty, hung with arras, and lit by
candles burning in silver sconces; it rang as we entered with the shrill
screaming of a parrot, which was being teased by a group occupying the
farther of the two hearths. Near them play was going on at one table,
and primero at a second. In a corner were three or four ladies, in
a circle about a red-faced, plebeian-looking man, who was playing at
forfeits with one of their number; while the middle of the room
seemed dominated by a middle-sized man with a peculiarly inflamed and
passionate countenance, who, seated on a table, was inveighing against
someone or something in the most violent terms, his language being
interlarded with all kinds of strange and forcible oaths. Two or three
gentlemen, who had the air of being his followers, stood about him,
listening between submission and embarrassment; while beside the nearer
fireplace, but at some distance from him, lounged a nobleman, very
richly dressed, and wearing on his breast the Cross of the Holy Ghost;
who seemed to be the object of his invective, but affecting to ignore it
was engaged in conversation with a companion. A bystander muttering that
Crillon had been drinking, I discovered with immense surprise that the
declaimer on the table was that famous soldier; and I was still looking
at him in wonder--for I had been accustomed all my life to associate
courage with modesty--when, the door of the chamber suddenly opening, a
general movement in that direction took place. Crillon, disregarding all
precedency, sprang from his table and hurried first to the threshold.
The Baron de Biron, on the other hand--for the gentleman by the fire was
no other--waited, in apparent ignorance of the slight which was being
put upon him, until M. de Rambouillet came up; then he went forward
with him. Keeping close to my patron’s elbow, I entered the chamber
immediately behind him.
Crillon had already seized upon the king, and, when we entered, was
stating his grievance is a voice not much lower than that which he had
used outside. M. de Biron, seeing this, parted from the marquis, and,
going aside with his former companion, sat down on a trunk against the
wall; while Rambouillet, followed by myself and three or four gentlemen
of his train, advanced to the king, who was standing near the alcove.
His Majesty seeing him, and thankful, I think, for the excuse, waved
Crillon off. ‘Tut, tut! You told me all that this morning,’ he said
good-naturedly. ‘And here is Rambouillet, who has, I hope, something
fresh to tell. Let him speak to me. Sanctus! Don’t look at me as if
you would run me through, man. Go and quarrel with someone of your own
size.’
Crillon at this retired grumbling, and Henry, who had just risen from
primero with the Duke of Nevers, nodded to Rambouillet. ‘Well, my
friend, anything fresh?’ he cried. He was more at his ease and looked
more cheerful than at our former interview; yet still care and suspicion
lurked about his peevish mouth, and in the hollows under his gloomy
eyes. ‘A new guest, a new face, or a new game--which have you brought?’
‘In a sense, sire, a new face,’ the marquis answered, bowing, and
standing somewhat aside that I might have place.
‘Well, I cannot say much for the pretty baggage,’ quoth the king
quickly. And amid a general titter he extended his hand to me. ‘I’ll
be sworn, though,’ he continued, as I rose from my knee, ‘that you want
something, my friend?’
‘Nay, sire,’ I answered, holding up my head boldly--for Crillon’s
behaviour had been a further lesson to me--‘I have, by your leave, the
advantage. For your Majesty has supplied me with a new jest. I see many
new faces round me, and I have need only of a new game. If your Majesty
would be pleased to grant me--’
‘There! Said I not so?’ cried the king, raising his hand with a laugh.
‘He does want something. But he seems not undeserving. What does he
pray, Rambouillet?’
‘A small command,’ M. de Rambouillet answered, readily playing his
part. ‘And your Majesty would oblige me if you could grant the Sieur de
Marsac’s petition. I will answer for it he is a man of experience.’
‘Chut! A small command?’ Henry ejaculated, sitting down suddenly in
apparent ill-humour. ‘It is what everyone wants--when they do not want
big ones. Still, I suppose,’ he continued, taking up a comfit-box, which
lay beside him, and opening it, ‘if you do not get what you want for him
you will sulk like the rest, my friend.’
‘Your Majesty has never had cause to complain of me,’ quoth the Marquis,
forgetting his role, or too proud to play it.
‘Tut, tut, tut, tut! Take it, and trouble me no more,’ the king
rejoined. ‘Will pay for twenty men do for him? Very well then. There,
M. de Marsac,’ he continued, nodding at me and yawning, ‘your request
is granted. You will find some other pretty baggages over there. Go
to them. And now, Rambouillet,’ he went on, resuming his spirits as he
turned to matters of more importance, ‘here is a new sweetmeat Zamet has
sent me. I have made Zizi sick with it. Will you try it? It is flavoured
with white mulberries.’
Thus dismissed, I fell back; and stood for a moment, at a loss whither
to turn, in the absence of either friends or acquaintances. His Majesty,
it is true, had bidden me go to certain pretty baggages, meaning,
apparently, five ladies who were seated at the farther end of the room,
diverting themselves with as many cavaliers; but the compactness of this
party, the beauty of the ladies, and the merry peals of laughter which
proceeded from them, telling of a wit and vivacity beyond the ordinary,
sapped the resolution which had borne me well hitherto. I felt that
to attack such a phalanx, even with a king’s good will, was beyond the
daring of a Crillon, and I looked round to see whether I could not amuse
myself in some more modest fashion.
The material was not lacking. Crillon, still mouthing out his anger,
strode up and down in front of the trunk on which M. de Biron was
seated; but the latter was, or affected to be, asleep. ‘Crillon is for
ever going into rages now,’ a courtier beside me whispered.
‘Yes,’ his fellow answered, with a shrug of the shoulder; ‘it is a pity
there is no one to tame him. But he has such a long reach, morbleu!’
‘It is not that so much as the fellow’s fury,’ the first speaker
rejoined under his breath. ‘He fights like a mad thing; fencing is no
use against him.’
The other nodded. For a moment the wild idea of winning renown by taming
M. de Crillon occurred to me as I stood alone in the middle of the
floor; but it had not more than passed through my brain when I felt
my elbow touched, and turned to find the young gentleman whom I had
encountered on the stairs standing by my side.
‘Sir,’ he lisped, in the same small voice, ‘I think you trod on my toe a
while ago?’
I stared at him, wondering what he meant by this absurd repetition.
‘Well, sir,’ I answered drily, ‘and if I did?’
‘Perhaps,’ he said, stroking his chin with his jewelled fingers,
‘pending our meeting to-morrow, you would allow me to consider it as a
kind of introduction?’
‘If it please you,’ I answered, bowing stiffly, and wondering what he
would be at.
‘Thank you,’ he answered. ‘It does please me, under the circumstances;
for there is a lady here who desires a word with you. I took up her
challenge. Will you follow me?’
He bowed, and turned in his languid fashion. I, turning too, saw, with
secret dismay, that the five ladies, referred to above, were all now
gazing at me, as expecting my approach; and this with such sportive
glances as told only too certainly of some plot already in progress or
some trick to be presently played me. Yet I could not see that I had any
choice save to obey, and, following my leader with as much dignity as I
could compass, I presently found myself bowing before the lady who sat
nearest, and who seemed to be the leader of these nymphs.
‘Nay, sir,’ she said, eyeing me curiously, yet with a merry face, ‘I do
not need you; I do not look so high!’
Turning in confusion to the next, I was surprised to see before me the
lady whose lodging I had invaded in my search for Mademoiselle de la
Vire--she, I mean, who, having picked up the velvet; knot, had dropped
it so providentially where Simon Fleix found it. She looked at me
blushing and laughing, and the young gentleman, who had done her errand,
presenting me by name, she asked me, while the others listened, whether
I had found my mistress.
Before I could answer, the lady to whom I had first addressed myself
interposed. ‘Stop, sir!’ she cried. What is this--a tale, a jest, a
game, or a forfeit?’
‘An adventure, madam,’ I answered, bowing low.
‘Of gallantry, I’ll be bound,’ she exclaimed. ‘Fie, Madame de Bruhl, and
you but six months married!’
Madame de Bruhl protested, laughing, that she had no more to do with it
than Mercury. ‘At the worst,’ she said, ‘I carried the POULETS! But I
can assure you, duchess, this gentleman should be able to tell us a very
fine story, if he would.’
The duchess and all the other ladies clapping their hands at this, and
crying out that the story must and should be told, I found myself in
a prodigious quandary; and one wherein my wits derived as little
assistance as possible from the bright eyes and saucy looks which
environed me. Moreover, the commotion attracting other listeners, I
found my position, while I tried to extricate myself, growing each
moment worse, so that I began to fear that as I had little imagination
I should perforce have to tell the truth. The mere thought of this
threw me into a cold perspiration, lest I should let slip something of
consequence, and prove myself unworthy of the trust which M. de Rosny
had reposed in me.
At the moment when, despairing of extricating myself, I was stooping
over Madame de Bruhl begging her to assist me, I heard, amid the babel
of laughter and raillery which surrounded me--certain of the courtiers
having already formed hands in a circle and sworn I should not depart
without satisfying the ladies--a voice which struck a chord in my
memory. I turned to see who the speaker was, and encountered no other
than M. de Bruhl himself; who, with a flushed and angry face, was
listening to the explanation which a friend was pouring into his ear.
Standing at the moment with my knee on Madame de Bruhl’s stool, and
remembering very well the meeting on the stairs, I conceived in a flash
that the man was jealous; but whether he had yet heard my name, or had
any clew to link me with the person who had rescued Mademoiselle de la
Vire from his clutches, I could not tell. Nevertheless his presence led
my thoughts into a new channel. The determination to punish him began to
take form in my mind, and very quickly I regained my composure. Still I
was for giving him one chance. Accordingly I stooped once more to Madame
de Bruhl’s ear, and begged her to spare me the embarrassment of telling
my tale. But then, finding her pitiless, as I expected, and the rest of
the company growing more and more insistent, I hardened my heart to go
through with the fantastic notion which had occurred to me.
Indicating by a gesture that I was prepared to obey, and the duchess
crying for a hearing, this was presently obtained, the sudden silence
adding the king himself to my audience. ‘What is it?’ he asked, coming
up effusively, with a lap-dog in his arms. ‘A new scandal, eh?’
‘No, sire, a new tale-teller,’ the duchess answered pertly. ‘If your
Majesty will sit, we shall hear him the sooner.’
He pinched her ear and sat down in the chair which a page presented.
‘What! is it Rambouillet’s GRISON again?’ he said with some surprise.
‘Well, fire away, man. But who brought you forward as a Rabelais?’
There was a general cry of ‘Madame de Bruhl!’ whereat that lady shook
her fair hair, about her face, and cried out for someone to bring her a
mask.
‘Ha, I see!’ said the king drily, looking pointedly at M. de Bruhl, who
was as black as thunder. ‘But go on, man.’
The king’s advent, by affording me a brief respite, had enabled me to
collect my thoughts, and, disregarding the ribald interruptions, which
at first were frequent, I began as follows: ‘I am no Rabelais, sire,’ I
said, ‘but droll things happen to the most unlikely. Once upon a time it
was the fortune of a certain swain, whom I will call Dromio, to arrive
in a town not a hundred miles from Blois, having in his company a nymph
of great beauty, who had been entrusted to his care by her parents. He
had not more than lodged her in his apartments, however, before she
was decoyed away by a trick, and borne off against her will by a young
gallant, who had seen her and been smitten by her charms. Dromio,
returning, and finding his mistress gone, gave way to the most poignant
grief. He ran up and down the city, seeking her in every place, and
filling all places with his lamentations; but for a time in vain, until
chance led him to a certain street, where, in an almost incredible
manner, he found a clew to her by discovering underfoot a knot of
velvet, bearing Phyllida’s name wrought on it in delicate needlework,
with the words, “A moi!”’
‘Sanctus!’ cried the king, amid a general murmur of surprise, ‘that
is well devised! Proceed, sir. Go on like that, and we will make your
twenty men twenty-five.’
‘Dromio,’ I continued, ‘at sight of this trifle experienced the most
diverse emotions, for while he possessed in it a clew to his mistress’s
fate, he had still to use it so as to discover the place whither she had
been hurried. It occurred to him at last to begin his search with the
house before which the knot had lain. Ascending accordingly to the
second-floor, he found there a fair lady reclining on a couch, who
started up in affright at his appearance. He hastened to reassure
her, and to explain the purpose of his coming, and learned after a
conversation with which I will not trouble your Majesty, though it
was sufficiently diverting, that the lady had found the velvet knot in
another part of the town, and had herself dropped it again in front of
her own house.’
‘Pourquoi?’ the king asked, interrupting me.
‘The swain, sire,’ I answered, ‘was too much taken up with his own
troubles to bear that in mind, even if he learned it. But this delicacy
did not save him from misconception, for as he descended from the lady’s
apartment he met her husband on the stairs.’
‘Good!’ the king exclaimed, rubbing his hands in glee. ‘The husband!’
And under cover of the gibe and the courtly laugh which followed it M.
de Bruhl’s start of surprise passed unnoticed save by me.
‘The husband,’ I resumed, ‘seeing a stranger descending his staircase,
was for stopping him and learning the reason of his presence; But
Dromio, whose mind was with Phyllida, refused to stop, and, evading his
questions, hurried to the part of the town where the lady had told him
she found the velvet knot. Here, sire, at the corner of a lane running
between garden-walls, he found a great house, barred and gloomy, and
well adapted to the abductor’s purpose. Moreover, scanning it on every
side, he presently discovered, tied about the bars of an upper window,
a knot of white linen, the very counterpart of that velvet one which he
bore in his breast. Thus he knew that the nymph was imprisoned in that
room!’
‘I will make it twenty-five, as I am a good Churchman!’ his Majesty
exclaimed, dropping the little dog he was nursing into the duchess’s
lap, and taking out his comfit-box. ‘Rambouillet,’ he added languidly,
‘your friend is a treasure!’
I bowed my acknowledgments, and took occasion as I did so to step a
pace aside, so as to command a view of Madame de Bruhl, as well as her
husband. Hitherto madame, willing to be accounted a part in so pretty
a romance, and ready enough also, unless I was mistaken, to cause her
husband a little mild jealousy, had listened to the story with a certain
sly demureness. But this I foresaw would not last long; and I felt
something like compunction as the moment for striking the blow
approached. But I had now no choice. ‘The best is yet to come, sire,’ I
went on, ‘as I think you will acknowledge in a moment. Dromio, though
he had discovered his mistress, was still in the depths of despair. He
wandered round and round the house, seeking ingress and finding none,
until at length, sunset approaching, and darkness redoubling his fears
for the nymph, fortune took pity on him. As he stood in front of the
house he saw the abductor come out, lighted by two servants. Judge of
his surprise, sire,’ I continued, looking round and speaking slowly, to
give full effect to my words, ‘when he recognised in him no other than
the husband of the lady who, by picking up and again dropping the velvet
knot, had contributed so much to the success of his search!’
‘Ha! these husbands!’ cried the king. And slapping his knee in an
ecstasy at his own acuteness, he laughed in his seat till he rolled
again. ‘These husbands! Did I not say so?’
The whole Court gave way to like applause, and clapped their hands as
well, so that few save those who stood nearest took notice of Madame de
Bruhl’s faint cry, and still fewer understood why she rose up suddenly
from her stool and stood gazing at her husband with burning cheeks and
clenched hands. She took no heed of me, much less of the laughing crowd
round her, but looked only at him with her soul in her eyes. He, after
uttering one hoarse curse, seemed to have no thought for any but me. To
have the knowledge that his own wife had baulked him brought home to him
in this mocking fashion, to find how little a thing had tripped him that
day, to learn how blindly he had played into the hands of fate, above
all to be exposed at once to his wife’s resentment and the ridicule of
the Court--for he could not be sure that I should not the next moment
disclose his name--all so wrought on him that for a moment I thought he
would strike me in the presence.
His rage, indeed, did what I had not meant to do. For the king, catching
sight of his face, and remembering that Madame de Bruhl had elicited the
story, screamed suddenly, ‘Haro!’ and pointed ruthlessly at him with his
finger. After that I had no need to speak, the story leaping from eye to
eye, and every eye settling on Bruhl, who sought in vain to compose his
features. Madame, who surpassed him, as women commonly do surpass men,
in self-control, was the first to recover herself, and sitting down as
quickly as she had risen, confronted alike her husband and her rivals
with a pale smile.
For a moment curiosity and excitement kept all breathless, the eye
alone busy. Then the king laughed mischievously. ‘Come, M. de Bruhl,’ he
cried, ‘perhaps you will finish the tale for us?’ And he threw himself
back in his chair, a sneer on his lips.
‘Or why not Madame de Bruhl?’ said the duchess, with her head on one
side and her eyes glittering over her fan. ‘Madame would, I am sure,
tell it so well.’
But madame only shook her head, smiling always that forced smile. For
Bruhl himself, glaring from face to face like a bull about to charge,
I have never seen a man more out of countenance, or more completely
brought to bay. His discomposure, exposed as he was to the ridicule
of all present, was such that the presence in which he stood scarcely
hindered him from some violent attack; and his eyes, which had wandered
from me at the king’s word, presently returning to me again, he so far
forgot himself as to raise his hand furiously, uttering at the same time
a savage oath.
The king cried out angrily, ‘Have a care, sir!’ But Bruhl only heeded
this so far as to thrust aside those who stood round him and push his
way hurriedly through the circle.
‘Arnidieu!’ cried the king, when he was gone. ‘This is fine conduct! I
have half a mind to send after him and have him put where his hot blood
would cool a little. Or--’
He stopped abruptly, his eyes resting on me. The relative positions of
Bruhl and myself as the agents of Rosny and Turenne occurred to him for
the first time, I think, and suggested the idea, perhaps, that I had
laid a trap for him, and that he had fallen into it. At any rate his
face grew darker and darker, and at last, ‘A nice kettle of fish this is
you have prepared for us, sir!’ he muttered, gazing at me gloomily.
The sudden change in his humour took even courtiers by surprise. Faces
a moment before broad with smiles grew long again. The less important
personages looked uncomfortably at one another, and with one accord
frowned on me. ‘If your Majesty would please to hear the end of the
story at another time?’ I suggested humbly, beginning to wish with all
my heart that I had never said a word.
‘Chut!’ he answered, rising, his face still betraying his perturbation,
‘Well, be it so. For the present you may go, sir. Duchess, give me
Zizi, and come to my closet. I want you to see my puppies. Retz, my good
friend, do you come too. I have something to say to you. Gentlemen, you
need not wait. It is likely I shall be late.’
And, with the utmost abruptness, he broke up the circle.