TAVERNEY'S PROSPECTS BRIGHTEN.
The first to perceive the archduchess's fainting fit, was Baron
Taverney who was on the lookout from being most uneasy about the
interview. Hearing the scream and seeing Balsamo dart out of the bower
he ran up.
The first word of the dauphiness was to call for the bewitched
decanter: her second to bid no harm to be done the sorcerer. It was
time to say it, for Philip Taverney had rushed after the latter.
She attributed the swoon to fever from the journey. She talked of
sleeping for some hours, in Andrea's room, but the Governor of
Strasburg arrived in hot haste with a dispatch from Versailles, and she
had to receive Lord Stainville, who was brother in-law of the prime
minister.
Opening this missive, the princess read:
"The court presentation of Lady Dubarry is fixed on, if she can find a
patroness, which we hope will not be. But the surest method of blocking
the project is to have your royal highness here, in whose presence none
will dare suggest such an offense."
"Very good. My horses must be put to. We depart at once."
Cardinal Rohan looked at Lord Stainville as if for an explanation of
this abrupt change.
"The dauphin is in a hurry to see his wife," whispered the latter with
such cunning that the churchman thought it had slipped his tongue and
was satisfied with it.
Andrea had been trained by her father to understand royal freaks; she
was not surprised at the contradiction. So the lady saw only smoothness
on her face as she turned to her, saying:
"Thank you; your welcome has deeply touched me. Baron, you are aware
that I made the vow to benefit the first French gentleman and his
family, whom I should meet on the frontier. But I am not going to stop
at this point, and Mademoiselle Andrea is not to be forgotten. Yes, I
wish her to be my maid of honor. The brother will defend the king in
the army, the sister will serve me; the father will instruct the first
in loyalty, the other in virtue. I shall have enviable servitors, do
you not agree?" she continued to Philip, who was kneeling. "I will
leave one of my carriages to bring you in my train. Governor, name
somebody to accompany my carriage for the Taverneys, and notify that it
is of my household."
"Beausire," called out the governor, "come forward."
A sharp-eyed cavalier, some twenty-four years old, rode out from the
escort and saluted.
"Set a guard over Baron Taverney's coach, and escort it."
"We shall meet soon again, then," said the princess with a smile. "Let
us be off, my lords and gentlemen."
In a quarter of an hour, all remaining of the whirling cavalcade was
the carriage left in the avenue and the guardsman whose horse was
cropping the dandelions.
"Where is the magician?" inquired Taverney.
"Gone, too, my lord."
"I never heard of the like--leaving all that valuable plate."
"He left a note which Gilbert is fretting to deliver."
"Father," said Andrea, "I know what is tormenting you. You know I have
thirty gold pieces, and the diamond-set watch Queen Maria Leczinska
gave my mother."
"That is well," said the baron, "but keep it, though we must hunt up
means for a handsome robe for your court presentation. Hush! here is
Labrie."
"The note, my lord, which was given Gilbert by the strange gentleman."
The baron snatched it from the servant and read in an undertone:
"MY LORD: Since an august hand touched this service of plate under
your roof, it belongs to your lordship, and I pray you to keep it
as a memento, and sometimes to remember, your grateful guest,
BALSAMO."
"Labrie, is there a good goldsmith at Bar-le-Duc?"
"Yes, my lord, the one who mended our young lady's jewelry."
"Put aside the cup the princess used, and pack up the rest of the plate
in our carriage. And then, haste to the cellar and serve that officer
with all the liquor left. Come, come, Andrea, courage! We are going to
court, a splendid place where the sun never fails. You are naturally
lovely and have only to set the gem becomingly to outshine them all."
Nicole followed Andrea to her room.
"I am off to arrange my titles of nobility and proofs of service,"
continued the baron, trotting to his room briskly. "We shall be off
from this den in an hour; do you hear, Andrea? And we leave by the
golden gates, too. What a trump that magician is! Really, I have become
as superstitious as the devil's own. But make haste, Labrie!" he cried
to his man groping about in the cellar.
"I can't get on faster, master--we have not a candle left."
"It is plain that we are getting out in the right time," thought the
baron.