The Last Vendée; or, the She-Wolves of Machecoul. Alexandre Dumas
old gentleman, who had not yet spoken; "it seems to me that you are taking a great liberty."
"Pooh! we are on a campaign," said the duchess; "I permit it."
Monsieur de Vouillé now bravely led the way into the dining-room. The curiosity of the guests and the uneasiness of the mistress of the house were all the more excited by this prolonged absence. So, when the door of the dining-room opened all eyes turned to the new arrivals.
Whatever difficulties there may have been in playing the parts they had thus unexpectedly assumed, none of the actors were at all disconcerted.
"Dear," said the count to his wife, "I have often spoken to you of my cousin in Toulouse--"
"Madame de la Myre?" interrupted the countess, eagerly.
"Yes,--Madame de la Myre. She is on her way to Nantes, and would not pass the château without making your acquaintance. How fortunate that she comes on your birthday! I hope it will bring luck to both."
"Dear cousin!" said the duchess, opening her arms to Madame de Vouillé.
The two women kissed each other. As for the two men M. de Vouillé contented himself with saying aloud, "Monsieur de la Myre," "Monsieur de Lussac."
The company bowed.
"Now," said M. de Vouillé, "we must find seats for these new-comers, who warn me that they are dying of hunger."
Every one moved a little. The table was large, and all the guests had plenty of elbow-room; it was not difficult therefore to place three additional persons.
"Did you not tell me, my dear cousin," said the duchess, "that the prefect of Vienne was dining with you?"
"Yes, madame; and that is he whom you see on the countess's right, with spectacles, a white cravat, and the rosette of an officer of the Legion of honor in his buttonhole."
"Oh! pray present us."
Monsieur de Vouillé boldly carried on the comedy. He felt there was nothing to be done but to play it out. Accordingly, he approached the prefect, who was majestically leaning back in his chair.
"Monsieur le préfet," he said, "this is my cousin, who, with her traditional respect for authority, thinks that a general presentation is not enough, and therefore wishes to be presented to you particularly."
"Generally, particularly, and officially," replied the gallant functionary, "madame is and ever will be welcome."
"I accept the pledge, monsieur," said the duchess.
"Madame is going to Nantes?" asked the prefect, by way of making a remark.
"Yes, monsieur; and thence to Paris,--at least, I hope so."
"It is not, I presume, the first time that Madame visits the capital?"
"No, monsieur; I lived there twelve years."
"And Madame left it--"
"Oh! very unwillingly, I assure you."
"Recently?"
"Two years ago last July."
"I can well understand that having once lived in Paris--"
"I should wish to return there. I am glad you understand that."
"Oh, Paris! Paris!" said the functionary.
"The paradise of the world!" said the duchess.
"Come, take your seats," said Monsieur de Vouillé.
"Oh, my dear cousin," said the duchess, with a glance at the place he intended for her, "leave me beside Monsieur le préfet, I entreat you. He has just expressed himself with so much feeling about the thing I have most at heart that I place him, at once, on my list of friends."
The prefect, delighted with the compliment, drew aside his chair, and Madame was installed in the seat to his left, to the detriment of the person to whom that place of honor had been assigned. The two men accepted without objection the seats given to them, and were soon busy--M. de Lussac especially--in doing justice to the repast. The other guests followed their example, and for a time nothing broke the solemn silence which attends the beginning of a long-delayed and impatiently awaited dinner.
Madame was the first to break that silence. Her adventurous spirit, like the petrel, was more at ease in a gale.
"Well," she remarked, "I think our arrival must have interrupted the conversation. Nothing is so depressing as a silent dinner. I detest such dinners, my dear count; they are like those state functions at the Tuileries, where, they tell me, no one was allowed to speak unless the king had spoken. What were you all talking about before we came in?"
"Dear cousin," said M. de Vouillé, "the prefect was kindly giving us the official details of that blundering affair at Marseille."
"Blundering affair?" said the duchess.
"That's what he called it."
"And the words exactly describe the thing," said the functionary. "Can you conceive of an expedition of that character for which the arrangements were so carelessly made that it only required a sub-lieutenant of the 13th regiment to arrest one of the leaders of the outbreak and knock the whole affair in the head at once?"
"But don't you know, Monsieur le préfet," said the duchess, in a melancholy tone, "in all great events there is a moment, a supreme moment, when the destinies of princes and empires are shaken like leaves in the wind? For example, when Napoleon at La Mure advanced to meet the soldiers who were sent against him, if a sub-lieutenant of any kind had taken him by the collar the return from Elba would have been nothing more than a blundering affair."
There was silence after that, Madame having said the words in a grieved tone. She herself re-opened the matter.
"And the Duchesse de Berry?" she said; "is it known what became of her?"
"She returned on board of the 'Carlo Alberto.'"
"Ah!"
"It was the only sensible thing she could do, it seems to me," said the prefect.
"You are quite right, monsieur," said the old gentleman, who had accompanied Madame, and who had not before spoken; "and if I had had the honor to be near her Highness and she had granted me some authority, I should have given her that advice."
"No one was addressing you, my good husband," said the duchess. "I am speaking to the prefect, and I want to know if he is quite sure her Royal Highness has re-embarked?"
"Madame," said the prefect, with one of those administrative gestures which admit of no contradiction, "the government is officially informed of it."
"Ah!" exclaimed the duchess, "if the government is officially informed of it, of course there is nothing to be said; but," she added, venturing on still more slippery ground, "I did hear differently."
"Madame!" said the old gentleman, in a tone of slight reproach.
"What did you hear, cousin?" asked M. de Vouillé, who was beginning to take the interest of a gambler in the game that was being played before him.
"Yes, what have you heard, madame?" said the prefect.
"Oh, you understand, Monsieur le préfet, that it is not for me to give you official news," said the duchess. "I am only telling you of rumors, which may be mere nonsense."
"Madame de la Myre!" said the old man.
"Well, Monsieur de la Myre?" said the duchess.
"Do you know, madame," said the prefect, "that I think your husband is very interfering. I will wager it is he who does not want you to go to Paris?"
"That is precisely true. But I hope to go there in spite of him. 'What woman wills, God wills.'"
"Oh, women! women!" cried the public functionary.
"What now?" asked the duchess.