THE LAWSUIT
At the time of which we write, M. de Létorière occupied a charming
detached house, whose garden opened on the ramparts, not far from the
Pavilion of Hanover, one of the dependencies of the dwelling of the
Marshal Richelieu.
The habitation of the Marquis resembled much more a palacette, as it was
then called, than a chateau. Everything therein was elegant, sumptuous,
mysterious and retired. In the summer, great trees enclosed the garden
with a girdle of verdure impenetrable to the eye; in the winter, an
immense curtain of ivy, very artistically disposed on trellises built in
the form of trees, rose above the walls, and replaced the foliage of the
warmer season.
On the day we speak of, Létorière was in his library awaiting the
expected arrival of Dominique from Vienna.
The princes against whom the Marquis was at law, had very great
influence in Germany. The Aulic Council was said to be in their
interests, and single-handed, Létorière had to wrestle against these
formidable adversaries.
The old professor, when he set out, was furnished with a letter from the
king to the French Ambassador at Vienna. Louis XV. informed his
representative that he took great interest in M. de Létorière's
success in the lawsuit, and ordered him to favor with all his power the
secret inquiries of the Marquis's confidential agent.
Soon the noise of a post-chaise was heard, and immediately after
Jean-Francois Dominique entered Létorière's library.
"Well! Dominique, have we any chance?" said the Marquis, cordially
embracing him.
"I doubt it . . . Monsieur the Marquis." . . .
"Are these Aulic councillors intractable?"
"Alas! I think so, but for the recollection of Alcibiades, who, after
all, seduced Tisapherne! . . . But I believe these Germans yet more
rebellious, yet more unapproachable than that distrustful satrap!"
"And who are these councillors? Have you gained some information about
them?"
"I have enough. . . . I have too much information! That is why I am so
grieved. These councillors are three in number: the Baron Henferester,
the greatest huntsman and most redoubtable drinker in all Germany; a
Nimrod who only quits his forests to sit in the council twice a week.
Then there is the Doctor Aloysius Sphex, a learned commentator of
Persius, I believe, always bristling with Latin, like a porcupine; and
lastly, the Seigneur Flachsinfingen, an ostrich-like gourmand, governed
by his wife, the leanest, most peevish, sourest Protestant that ever
wore a Bible attached to her side by a silver chain . . ."
"Your portraits are drawn by a masterly hand, Dominique; they are
sufficiently unattractive. And these gentlemen of the council are
absolutely in the interest of the German princes?"
"Yes, entirely so. In this single case these three councillors, who
detest each other cordially, undoubtedly on account of the difference of
their tastes, are of one mind,--a rare thing, for generally the support
of one would be sufficient to cause the opposition of the others."
"And the German princes?" . . .
"Have as much hope of gaining, as you have chances of losing; for you
pass at Vienna for something worse than a demon."
"I do! . . . You are joking, Dominique!"
"I wish I were! but it is only too true. . . . Your reputation as a man
of gallantry, a voluptuary, a flirt, and a sybarite, has reached even
Vienna; in the eyes of these grave Germans, you are a Will'-o'-the-wisp,
a sprite, a sylph,--something, in short, as brilliant as subtle,
unaccountable and dangerous. Two centuries ago, they would have received
you with a power of exorcisms and holy water . . . but in this
philosophic and enlightened age, they will content themselves with
shutting the door in your face, and saying _vade retro_, for they would
think you are the devil himself; and unhappily your lawsuit will be
definitely settled in two weeks by these three judges! . . . Ah! may
Pluto . . . have them some day for their comfort!" added Dominique, by
way of imprecation.
After a long silence, the Marquis rose, wrote a few words, rang his
bell, and gave his letter to a servant, saying:
"Carry this to the house of Madame Rohan-Soubise; ask for Dame Martha,
and wait for an answer."
"This evening I shall start for Vienna," said Létorière to his
professor.
"You mean, then, to go in search of adventures, to seduce your judges?
It is true that Alcibiades ate the black broth of the Spartans, made a
centaur of himself in Thrace, and crowned himself with violets, while he
sang voluptuous songs to the effeminate Ionians."
"I have no intention of fascinating my judges, my old friend; but in
some cases it is better to see with one's own eyes."
The conversation between Dominique and his former pupil continued for
some time, and turned upon the particular circumstances of the lawsuit.
At the end of half an hour, the lackey returned, bringing a note for
Létorière, who cried out in great astonishment:
"What can she be thinking of? But if she wishes, let it be so . . ."
Then he ordered his carriage and went out, praying Dominique to hasten
the preparations for his departure that very evening.