Part 5 (1/2)
”I believe I could say, Miss,” a.s.serted d'Estaing, ”that nevertheless you yourself have brought to Fontainebleau at least twelve short dresses and five pairs of low-heeled shoes.”
”More than that--a straw hat and ap.r.o.ns,” Cyrene added mischievously, casting a smile also at Germain.
”Hold! hold!” de Blair cried. ”This is certainly the revolution they say is to come. We are returning rapidly to the State of Nature.”
”Do I hear a phrase of that man Rousseau, ladies?” the Princess called over, nodding her head-dress. ”When I was little he was presented to me at the Prince de Conti's, and had no breeding. Is that not true, Abbe?”
”You speak with your unvarying correctness, Madame la Princesse.”
”You hear the Abbe, ladies,” she said languidly, sitting back again.
D'Estaing, to change the subject, took up the name of the Prince de Conti, and turning to the Canoness and Cyrene, told a story which he had often heard of him.
”Madame de Bouillon, being with the Prince, hinted that she would like a miniature of her linnet set in a ring. The Prince offered to have it made. His offer was accepted on condition that the miniature be set plain, without jewels. Accordingly the miniature is placed in a simple rim of gold. But to cover over the painting, a large diamond, cut very thin, is set above it. Madame returned the diamond. The Prince had it ground to powder, which he used to dry the ink of the note he wrote to Madame on the subject.”
”There is a Prince!” cried Mademoiselle de Richeval.
”By the way, Montgolfier has sent up a new balloon which has carried four pa.s.sengers,” went on the volatile d'Estaing.
”Who is this Montgolfier with his balloons?” the Princess asked languidly. ”Is he what the new coiffure is named after?”
D'Estaing looked around a little significantly.
”Precisely, Madame--the coiffure Montgolfier,” Germain at once replied, for he had looked into hat fas.h.i.+ons lately.
”Please describe it to me after dinner. All the world is speaking of it.”
”To the devil with coiffures!” Grancey whispered to the Canoness, and struck up a paean of praise on the lean hound Arethuse who led the hunt the previous day.
”Yes, but I believe that dog is possessed of the devil,” a.s.serted d'Estaing. ”Did you notice her eyes flash when she sprang down the hideous glen where we nearly broke our necks? The foresters once told me about that place.”
”What about it?”
”It is the glen of the Great Hunter. The courtiers of King Henry IV were hunting in that part of the forest one day, when they heard a tremendous horn, saw the stag turn, and a strange pack of dogs in full chase fly after it across their path; and with the hounds they saw a hunter, riding on a great black horse. They stopped and shouted at the intruder, and searched about for him, when a gigantic savage of a frightful countenance sprang above the bushes and said in a voice which froze their blood: 'DO YOU HEAR ME?' Since then he has been seen many times by the foresters and others.”
”I do not like the subject,” shuddered Mademoiselle de Richeval, crossing herself.
”Pardon me,” d'Estaing gravely said, bowing.
”Tell me something about those men ascending into the clouds,” spoke the silvery voice of the young Baroness, addressing Germain.
He gladly told her all he knew of the late ascent, at which he had been present in Bordeaux; how Montgolfier and his brother made the balloon; how he stood by their enclosure and saw them fill the balloon with inflammable gas; how the brave four got into the car and everybody prophesied their destruction; and of the speechless thrill with which he saw at last the strange machine dart upwards and carry them swiftly higher and higher, until it was but a speck drifting across the clouds.
The vividness of his account pleased her, and at the end she was permitting him to drink her health, when they were interrupted by an exclamation, and saw de Grancey pointing to the table. A surprise of an ingenious nature was occurring before their eyes. The artificial h.o.a.r frost which gave such beauty to the miniature landscape was slowly melting with the heat of the room, and during the process the guests saw the thawing of the river, the budding of the trees, and the blossoming of the various flowers take place, as spring succeeded winter. A little cry of delight leaped involuntarily from the lips of the sweet la Roche Vernay and she smiled exquisitely on Germain, who, in that moment, wildly lost his heart.
CHAPTER VII
”THE LEAP IS TAKEN”