retraced their steps; the Emperor now turning towards the ladies, and
the Empress towards the men. There were some more presentations. No
one spoke; respectful embarrassment kept all the guests face to face
in silence. However, when the adjutant-general of the palace entered
to announce that dinner was served, the lines broke up, remarks were
exchanged _sotto voce_, and there came little bursts of cheery laughter.
'Ah! you don't want me any longer now!' said M. de Plouguern in
Clorinde's ear.
She smiled at him. She had kept in front of M. de Marsy in order to
compel him to offer her his arm, which he did with a gallant air. There
was some little confusion. The Emperor and Empress went out first,
followed by the guests who were to sit on their right and left. That
day two foreign diplomatists, a young American lady, and a minister's
wife had been selected for this honour. After these came the other
guests in such order as they chose, each gentleman giving his arm to
the lady he had been pleased to select. And thus the procession got
slowly under way.
The entry into the dining-hall was very pompous. Five cut-glass
chandeliers sparkled above the long table, illumining the silver
centre-pieces, which represented such hunting scenes as the starting of
the stag, the horns sounding the view-halloa, and the hounds seizing
the quarry. Silver plates were disposed round the edge of the cloth
like a border of glittering moons; and the silver warmers reflecting
the blaze of the candles, the glass with its quivering coruscations,
the fruit stands, and the bright pink flower vases, gave quite a
splendour to the Imperial table, a sheeny brilliance which filled the
whole huge room.
The procession slowly crossed the Hall of the Guards before entering
the dining-room, whose folding doors stood wide open. The men bent down
and said a word or two, and then drew erect again, feeling secretly
vain of this triumphal march, while the ladies beamed radiantly, their
bare shoulders steeped in the brilliant light. Their long trains,
sweeping the carpets at regular intervals between each successive
couple, lent additional majesty to the procession, the rustling of all
the rich tissues sounding like a soft accompaniment. As the threshold
of the dining-room was reached, and the superb array of the table came
into sight, a military band, hidden from view in an adjoining gallery,
greeted the company with a flourish, like a signal for some fairy gala,
and, at the sound of it, the gentlemen, who felt somewhat ill at ease
in their short breeches, involuntarily pressed their partners' arms.
However, the Empress passed down the room on the right, and remained
standing by the centre of the table, while the Emperor, going to the
left, took up position opposite to her. Then, when the selected guests
had taken their places at the right and left of their Majesties, the
others glanced round for a moment, and chose what places they liked. On
that particular evening covers were laid for eighty-seven. Some three
minutes elapsed before everyone had entered the room and chosen seats.
The satiny sheen of the ladies' shoulders, the bright flowers in their
dresses, and the diamonds sparkling in their piled-up hair, lent as
it were living mirth to the full light of the crystal chandeliers. At
last the footmen took the Court hats, which the gentlemen had hitherto
carried in their hands; and then everyone sat down.
M. de Plouguern had followed Rougon. After the soup had been served, he
nudged him and inquired--'Have you commissioned Clorinde to bring about
a reconciliation between you and Marsy?'
Then, with a glance, he pointed out the young woman, who sat on the
other side of the table beside the Count, to whom she was talking with
an air of tender interest. Rougon seemed much annoyed, but he merely
shrugged his shoulders, and pretended to look in another direction. In
spite, however, of his attempt at indifference, his eyes strayed back
to Clorinde, and he began to observe her slightest gestures, and even
the movements of her lips, as though he were anxious to discover what
she was saying.
Just then, however, he was spoken to.
'Monsieur Rougon,' said Madame de Combelot, who had got as near to the
Emperor as she could, 'do you recollect that accident when you got a
cab for me? One of the flounces of my dress was completely torn away.'
She was trying to make herself interesting by relating how her carriage
had been nearly cut in halves by the landau of a Russian prince. Then
Rougon was obliged to reply; and for a short time the incident became
the subject of conversation among those placed near the middle of the
table. All kinds of accidents were quoted, and, among others, one which
had happened to a woman, a well-known dealer in perfumery, who had
fallen from her horse during the previous week, and had broken her arm.
The Empress on hearing this raised a slight exclamation of pity. The
Emperor said nothing but listened with a profound expression, while
eating very slowly.
'Where's Delestang got to?' Rougon now asked of M. de Plouguern.
They looked about, and the senator at last caught sight of him at
the end of the table. Seated next to M. de Combelot, among a row of
men, he was listening to the broad conversation which was there being
carried on under cover of the general talk. M. La Rouquette had been
relating a somewhat free story about a laundress of his native place,
and now Chevalier Rusconi was favouring the others with some personal
criticisms of the women of Paris; while one of the two artists and the
novelist, a little lower down the table, bluntly passed judgment on
the ladies whose lean or over-fleshy arms excited their mockery. And
Rougon angrily transferred his gaze from Clorinde, who was growing more
and more amiable in her manner towards the Count, to her imbecile of
a husband, who sat smiling, in a dignified way, at the rather strong
anecdotes with which his ears were being regaled.
'Why didn't he come and sit with us?' muttered the great man.
'Oh! I don't pity him. They seem to be amusing themselves down there,'
said M. de Plouguern. And he continued in a whisper: 'I fancy they are
making merry at Madame de Llorentz's expense. Have you noticed how
indecently she's dressed? Just look at her bodice, how low it is.'
However, as he turned to get a better view of Madame de Llorentz, who
was on the same side of the table as himself, some five seats away,
his face suddenly became very grave. The lady's countenance--she was
a beautiful, plump blonde--had assumed a furious expression; she was
white with suppressed rage, and her blue eyes seemed to be turning
black as they glowered fiercely on M. de Marsy and Clorinde.
'There's going to be a row,' muttered the old senator between his
teeth, in such wise that even Rougon could not tell what he was saying.
The band was still playing; the hidden, distant music sounding as
though it proceeded from the ceiling. Every now and then, at some
sudden blare of the brass instruments, the guests raised their heads,
as though seeking to identify the strain which was being played; but
the next moment they could hear nothing distinctly for the light notes
of the clarionets mingled with the jingling of the silver plate,
which the servants carried about in piles. The big dishes gave out a
clanking sound, like so many cymbals. All round the table there was
much silent hurrying to and fro. A whole army of servants flitted
hither and thither without speaking a word; ushers in swallow-tails and
bright blue breeches, with swords at their sides and cocked hats under
their arms; and footmen with powdered hair, in full-dress livery of
green cloth, laced with gold. The dishes were brought in and the wines
circulated in proper order, while the heads of the different household
services, the controllers, the chief carver, and the chief custodian of
the plate, stood round, and superintended all the intricate manœuvring
which marked the seeming confusion, in which the _rôles_ of the most
insignificant footmen had been carefully arranged beforehand. And
behind the Emperor and Empress were their Majesties' own private
valets, who waited upon them with an air of decorous dignity.
When the roasts arrived and the great wines of Burgundy were poured
into the guests' glasses, the chatter of voices grew louder. Among the
men at the end of the table, M. La Rouquette was now discoursing upon
culinary matters, notably with regard to the amount of cooking which
the haunch of venison then being served had received. The previous
dishes had comprised Crecy soup, salmon _au bleu_, fillet of beef with
shallot sauce, pullets _à la financière_, partridges with cabbage, and
oyster patties.
'I'll bet that we shall have stewed cardoons and vegetable-marrow with
melted butter,' said the young deputy.
'I have seen some crayfish,' remarked Delestang politely.
However, as the cardoons and vegetable-marrow were just then served,
M. La Rouquette was loud in his expressions of triumph. He knew the
Empress's tastes, he declared. But the novelist glanced at the artist,
and said, with a cluck of the tongue: 'The cooking's rather poor.'
The artist pouted his assent. Then, when he had taken a sip from his
glass, he said: 'The wines are exquisite.'
Just at that moment, however, a sudden laugh from the Empress rang so
loudly through the room that everyone became silent, and craned forward
to discover what had given rise to it. The Empress was talking to the
Prussian Ambassador, who sat on her right. She was still laughing and
uttering broken words which the guests could not catch. But amidst the
silence caused by the general curiosity, a cornet-à-piston, softly
accompanied by some bassoons, began to play a pretty, sentimental
air. Then the general murmur of conversation arose once more. Chairs
were turned half-round and elbows rested on the table as sections of
the guests began to chat together, as if they were at some luxurious
_table-d'hôte_.
'Will you have a rout cake?' asked M. de Plouguern.
Rougon shook his head in refusal. For a moment he had been eating
nothing. The servants had replaced the silver plate by Sèvres
porcelain, beautifully decorated in blue and pink. Then the whole
dessert went in procession past Rougon, but he would only accept a
small piece of Camembert. He had ceased to exercise any restraint over
himself, and gazed openly at M. de Marsy and Clorinde, in the hope,
probably, of being able to intimidate the young woman. But she affected
such familiarity with Marsy that she seemed to have forgotten where she
was, and to fancy herself in some private room where a light supper
had been served for two. Her beautiful face sparkled with tenderness;
and as she munched the sweetmeats which the Count handed to her, she
tranquilly prosecuted her conquest with never-failing smile and superb
assurance. The people near them had begun to whisper.
However, the general conversation turned upon the subject of fashion,
and M. de Plouguern mischievously asked Clorinde about the new shape
of bonnets. Then, as she pretended not to hear him, he turned round
in order to address the same question to Madame de Llorentz. But
when he saw her angry, threatening face, with its clenched teeth and
tragic expression of furious jealousy, he did not dare to carry out
his intention. Clorinde, as it happened, had just surrendered her hand
to M. de Marsy on the pretext of letting him look at an antique cameo
which she wore on a finger-ring. And she let the Count hold her hand
while he took off the ring and then put it back again. This seemed to
be going too far. Madame de Llorentz, who was nervously playing with a
spoon, upset a wine-glass and broke it. One of the servants immediately
removed the fragments.
'They will be tearing each other's hair by-and-bye,' the senator
whispered to Rougon. 'Have you watched them? But, the deuce take me if
I can understand Clorinde's game! What's she up to, eh?'
Then, as he raised his eyes to his neighbour, he was quite taken aback
by the strange change which he noticed in Rougon's face. 'What's the
matter with you? Aren't you well?' he asked.
'Oh, yes,' Rougon replied, 'but it's so close here; these dinners last
so long. And then there's such a strong scent of musk.'
The dinner, however, was now at an end, though a few ladies were still
nibbling biscuits as they leant back in their chairs. No one moved; but
the Emperor, who had hitherto preserved silence, suddenly raised his
voice, and the guests at either end of the table, who had completely
forgotten his Majesty's presence, suddenly strained their ears to catch
his remarks. He was replying to a dissertation from M. Beulin-d'Orchère
against the practice of divorcing married people, which at that time
did not prevail in France. And after pausing and glancing at the very
low bodice of the young American lady who sat on his right hand, his
Majesty said in a drawling voice: 'In America I never knew of any but
plain wives being divorced.'
At this a laugh ran through the guests. The remark seemed one of such
fine and delicate wit that M. La Rouquette pondered over it in the
hope of being able to discover some hidden meaning. The young American
lady, however, appeared to think it a compliment, for she bowed to
the Emperor in pleased confusion. Their Majesties now rose from their
seats. There was a loud rustling and tramping round the table; and the
ushers and footmen, standing gravely in line against the wall, alone
preserved an attitude of decorum amidst the scramble of all these
people who had dined so well. However, the procession was formed anew;
their Majesties at the head, followed by the guests in double file,
with the various couples parted by the ladies' spreading trains. They
passed through the Guard Room with somewhat panting dignity, while
behind them, in the full light of the crystal chandeliers, over the
litter of the disordered table, there resounded the big drum of the
military band, which was finishing the last figure of a quadrille.
Coffee was served that evening in the Gallery of the Maps. One of the
prefects of the palace presented the Emperor's cup on a silver-gilt
salver. Several of the guests, however, had already gone off to the
smoking-room, while the Empress had retired with a few ladies to her
private drawing-room on the left of the gallery. It was whispered
that she had expressed much displeasure at the peculiar manner in
which Clorinde had behaved during dinner. During the yearly visits to
Compiègne she tried to introduce something like homely decorum into the
habits of the Court, with a taste for innocent amusements and rural
pleasure; and she displayed a strong personal antipathy to certain
eccentricities.
M. de Plouguern had taken Clorinde aside to preach her a little sermon,
in the hope of worming a confession out of her. But the young woman
affected great surprise. How had she compromised herself with Count de
Marsy? They had only joked together, nothing more.
'Well, look there, then,' said the old senator. And forthwith he pushed
back a door which already stood ajar, and showed her Madame de Llorentz
storming away at M. de Marsy in a little adjacent _salon_, which he
had previously seen them enter. Wild with rage, the beautiful blonde
was assailing Marsy in the most unmeasured language, quite regardless
of the fact that the loud voice in which she was speaking might bring
about a terrible scandal. The Count, although a little pale, was
smiling and trying to appease her, talking to her rapidly in low soft
tones. Sounds of the quarrel had, however, reached the gallery, and the
guests who heard them prudently retired from the neighbourhood of the
little room.
'Do you want her to publish those famous letters all over the château?'
asked M. de Plouguern, who had begun to pace up and down again, after
giving his arm to Clorinde.
'It would be fine fun!' she exclaimed with a loud laugh.
Then the old senator, squeezing her arm like some young gallant, began
to scold her again. She must leave all eccentric behaviour to Madame de
Combelot, he told her. And he went on to say that her Majesty appeared
very much annoyed with her. At this Clorinde, who cherished a sincere
devotion for the Empress, seemed quite astonished. What had she done
that could have displeased her?
Then, as they reached the entrance of her Majesty's private
drawing-room, they stopped for a moment and peeped through the doorway,
which had been left open. A circle of ladies had gathered round a large
table, and the Empress was patiently teaching them ring puzzles, while
a few gentlemen stood behind the chairs and gravely followed the lesson.
In the meantime Rougon had been disputing with Delestang at the end
of the gallery. He had not ventured to speak to him about his wife,
but was reproaching him for the indifference with which he had allowed
himself to be stowed away in a room which overlooked the courtyard
of the château, and he tried to induce him to claim one with a view
over the park. However, Clorinde came towards them leaning on M. de
Plouguern's arm.
'Oh, don't bother me any more about your Marsy!' she said loudly enough
to be heard. 'I won't speak to him again this evening. There! will that
satisfy you?'
This remark quieted everybody. Just at that moment M. de Marsy came out
of the little room looking quite gay. He stopped to joke for a moment
with Chevalier Rusconi, and then entered the private drawing-room,
where soon afterwards the Empress and the ladies could be heard
laughing at some story he was telling them. Ten minutes later, Madame
de Llorentz also reappeared. She looked weary and her hands were
trembling. Observing, however, the curious glances which took note of
her slightest gestures, she boldly remained in the gallery conversing
with the various guests.
There was a growing feeling of weariness among the company, who began
to yawn slightly behind their handkerchiefs. The evening was the
most trying time. The newly-invited guests, not knowing how to amuse
themselves, went up to the windows and gazed into the darkness. M.
Beulin-d'Orchère continued his dissertation against divorce laws in a
corner of the room; while the novelist, who felt greatly bored, asked
one of the academicians in a whisper if it was permissible to go to
bed. Every now and then, however, the Emperor made his appearance and
lounged through the gallery with a cigarette between his lips.
'It was impossible to arrange anything for this evening,' M. de
Combelot explained to the little group in which Rougon and his friends
were gathered. 'To-morrow, after the stag-hunt, the offal will be
given to the hounds by torchlight. Then on the day after to-morrow the
artistes of the Comédie Française are coming to play _Les Plaideurs_.
There is a talk, too, of some _tableaux vivants_ and a charade, which
will be performed towards the end of the week.'
Then he gave them details. His wife was going to take a part, and the
rehearsals would soon begin. He also spoke at length about an excursion
which the Court had made two days previously to a druidical monolith,
in the neighbourhood of which some excavations were being carried on.
The Empress had insisted upon getting down into the pit which had been
dug.
'And do you know,' continued the chamberlain, in tones of emotion,
'the workmen were lucky enough to turn up two skulls in her Majesty's
presence. No one was expecting such a thing, and it caused great
satisfaction.'
So saying, he stroked that black beard of his which had been the source
of so much of his success among the ladies. There was a somewhat sawny
look about his handsome face, of which he was evidently vain, and he
lisped as he spoke.
'But I was told,' said Clorinde, 'that the actors of the Vaudeville
were coming down to perform their new piece. The women wear the most
wonderful dresses, and it's excruciatingly funny, I hear.'
M. de Combelot assumed a prudish expression. 'Yes,' he said, 'it was
talked of for a moment.'
'Well?'
'The idea has been abandoned. The Empress doesn't like that kind of
piece.'
At this moment there was a general stir in the gallery. All the men had
come down from the smoking-room again, and the Emperor was going to
play his game at table quoits. Madame de Combelot, who prided herself
upon being a very skilful player, had just asked him to give her her
revenge, for she recollected having been beaten by him during the
previous season. As she spoke to him she assumed an air of such humble
tenderness and such a meaning smile, that his Majesty, ill at ease and
rather alarmed, was obliged to turn his eyes away from her.
The game began. A large number of guests gathered round and admiringly
criticised the play. Standing at the end of the long table, which was
covered with a green cloth, the young woman threw her first quoit,
which alighted near the white point representing the pin. Then the
Emperor, showing even greater skill, dislodged it with his own quoit,
which slipped into its place. The spectators softly applauded. However,
it was Madame de Combelot who won in the end.
'What have we been playing for, sire?' she boldly inquired.
The Emperor smiled, but made no reply. Then he turned round and said:
'Monsieur Rougon, will you have a game with me?'
Rougon bowed and took up the quoits, while apologising for his
unskilfulness at the game.
A thrill of excitement ran through the spectators, who stood on either
side of the table. Was Rougon really coming into favour again? The
latent hostility which had encompassed him ever since his arrival now
melted, and the guests bent forward and watched his quoits with an air
of sympathy. M. La Rouquette, feeling still more perplexed than he
had been before dinner, drew his sister aside to ask her what was the
true state of affairs, but she was apparently unable to give him any
satisfactory information, for he returned to the table making a gesture
of perplexity.
'Ah, very good!' murmured Clorinde, as Rougon made a skilful cast.
She darted meaning glances at those friends of the great man who were
present. The opportunity seemed a favourable one for helping him back
into the Emperor's good graces. She commenced the onset herself, and
for a moment or two there was a burst of laudatory remarks.
'The deuce!' exclaimed Delestang, who could think of nothing else to
say, though he was anxious to obey the mute command of his wife's eyes.
'And you pretended that you were a very poor player,' said Chevalier
Rusconi delightedly. 'Ah, sire, pray don't play for France with him.'
'But Monsieur Rougon would treat France very well, I'm sure,'
interposed M. Beulin-d'Orchère, with a meaning expression on his
dog-like face.
It was a direct hint. The Emperor deigned to smile; and he even laughed
good-naturedly when Rougon, quite embarrassed by the compliments,
modestly explained: 'Well, I used to play at pitch and toss when I was
a boy.'
On hearing his Majesty laugh, all the company did likewise; and for a
moment the gallery rang with merriment. Clorinde, with her sharp wits,
had realised that by admiring Rougon, who was in fact a very poor
player, one really flattered the Emperor, who was incontestably his
superior. M. de Plouguern, however, had not yet come forward, feeling a
touch of jealousy at Rougon's success. So Clorinde went up to him and
nudged his elbow as if by accident. He understood, her meaning, and
warmly praised his colleague's next throw. Then M. La Rouquette made up
his mind to risk everything, and exclaimed: 'Yes, that was beautiful, a
delightfully soft throw!'
As the Emperor won the game, Rougon asked for his revenge, and the
quoits were again gliding over the green cloth with a faint rustling
sound like that of dry leaves, when a lady-attendant appeared at the
door of the drawing-room, holding the Prince Imperial in her arms. The
child who was then some twenty months old, was dressed in a plain white
robe. His hair was in disorder and his eyes were heavy with sleep. When
he awoke of an evening in this way he was generally brought to the
Empress for a moment so that she might kiss him. He looked at the light
with the serious expression characteristic of little children.
However, an old man, a great dignitary of the Empire, came forward,
dragging his gouty legs. And bending down, with a senile tremor of his
head, he took hold of the baby-prince's soft little hand and kissed it,
saying in quavering accents as he did so: 'Monseigneur, monseigneur----'