Part 122 (1/2)
”Good! that was well done.”
”Yes, but he did not think so. 'Monsieur,' said I to him, 'you are an a.s.s to take it upon yourself to resemble from afar my friend Monsieur de la Mole, who is an accomplished cavalier; while on nearer view one can easily perceive that you are nothing but a vagrant.' Whereupon he drew his sword, and I mine. At the third pa.s.s he fell down, sprinkling me with his blood.”
”But you a.s.sisted him at least?”
”I was about to do so when a horseman rode by. Ah! this time, d.u.c.h.ess, I was sure that it was La Mole. Unfortunately he was galloping. I ran after him as hard as I could, and those who collected around to see the fight ran behind me. Now as I might easily have been mistaken for a thief, followed as I was by all that rabble shouting at my heels, I was obliged to turn back to scatter them, which made me lose a little time.
In the meanwhile the rider disappeared; I followed, inquired of every one, gave the color of the horse; but it was useless; no one had noticed him. At last, tired out from the chase, I came here.”
”Tired of the chase!” said the d.u.c.h.ess. ”How flattering you are!”
”Listen, dear friend,” said Coconnas, turning nonchalantly in his chair.
”You are going to bother me again on account of poor La Mole. Now, you are wrong, for friends.h.i.+p, you see,--I wish I had his wit or knowledge, I would then find some comparison which would make you understand how I feel--friends.h.i.+p, you see, is a star, while love--love--wait! I have it!--love is only a candle. You will tell me there are several varieties”--
”Of love?”
”No! of candles, and that some are better than others. The rose, for instance, is the best; but rose as it is, the candle burns out, while the star s.h.i.+nes forever. You will answer this by saying that when the candle is burned out, another is put in its place.”
”Monsieur de Coconnas, you are a goose.”
”Indeed!”
”Monsieur de Coconnas, you are impertinent.”
”Ah?”
”Monsieur de Coconnas, you are a scoundrel.”
”Madame, I warn you that you will make me trebly regret La Mole.”
”You no longer love me.”
”On the contrary, d.u.c.h.ess, you do not know it, but I idolize you. But I can love and cherish and idolize you, and yet in my spare moments praise my friend.”
”So you call the time spent with me spare moments, do you?”
”What can you expect? Poor La Mole is constantly in my thoughts.”
”You prefer him to me; that is shameful! and I detest you, Annibal! Why not be frank, and tell me you prefer him to me? Annibal, I warn you of one thing: if you prefer anything in the world to me”--
”Henriette, the loveliest of d.u.c.h.esses! For your own peace of mind, believe me, do not ask such unwise questions. I love you more than any woman, and I love La Mole more than any man.”
”Well answered!” said a strange voice suddenly. A damask curtain was raised in front of a great panel, which, sliding back into the wall, opened a pa.s.sage between the two rooms, and showed La Mole in the doorway, like one of t.i.tian's fine portraits in its gilded frame.
”La Mole!” exclaimed Coconnas, without paying any attention to Marguerite or taking the time to thank her for the surprise she had arranged for him; ”La Mole, my friend, my dear La Mole!” and he rushed into the arms of his friend, upsetting the armchair in which he had been sitting and the table that stood in his way.
La Mole returned his embrace with effusion; then, turning to the d.u.c.h.esse de Nevers:
”Pardon me, madame, if the mention of my name has sometimes disturbed your happiness.” ”Certainly,” he added, glancing at Marguerite with a look of ineffable tenderness, ”it has not been my fault that I have not seen you sooner.”