Part 14 (1/2)

”I don't know the name. What age is he?”

”About twenty,” the chief said.

”Don't you know any more about him?”

The Admiral described him as closely as possible. They took some time in the conversation. ”He ought to be in the company of officers of the Bodyguard,” added he. The beggar by that time was becoming unsteady with rapid libations. He nodded, dropping his head.

”Do you understand me?” shouted the Admiral.

”Repentigny,” the other muttered, correctly enough.

”Can you meet us at the Place d'Armes of Versailles to-morrow?” wheedled Femme Gougeon.

He looked at her steadily and nodded deliberately.

”Is twelve o'clock too early?”

He shook his head a little.

”He will a.s.suredly do it,” she said to her companion.

The next second the beggar fell off the bench, dead drunk.

The following day at Versailles, at the entrance of the Avenue de Paris, two nuns were seen to stop and give alms to an old bent beggar. A conversation took place between them, and was interrupted by the approach of a gendarme.

”I have found him,” was the beggar's whisper.

”Where?”

”At the Hotel de Noailles. Am I to kill him?” he asked excitedly.

”No,” said the taller nun.

The gendarme stepped up towards the beggar.

”I arrest you for mendicity,” he said, just about to lay his hand on his shoulder.

The beggar--who bore a red nose--started back with an alacrity unexpected of so aged a man. He took to his heels, and, with tatters flying, fled like an arrow from the Avenue.

The gendarme furiously looked after him. When he turned, the pair of nuns also had moved on. They were slipping round a corner which led into a by-street of the old town.

Versailles, the City of the Court, was then in the height of its splendour, gay and triumphant. Everything in it looked towards the Palace of the King, the long and lordly facade of which, with its three concentric courtyards, faced the great square of the town, the Place d'Armes; and behind lay those delicious gardens, groves and waters, the mere remains of which, such as the Tapis Vert, the Basins of Neptune and Enceladus, the Trianons, and the Orangerie, are marvels even to our day.

Thousands of costumes and equipages made the town a panorama of luxury; and countless thoroughbreds, of which the King alone possessed more than two thousand, glistened and curvetted in the streets.

The neighbourhood of the Palace was naturally that of the aristocracy.

The vast mansions of the Princes of the blood and the Peers of France were cl.u.s.tered about the sides of the Place d'Armes and the streets immediately surrounding. One of these was the Hotel de Noailles. Its range of buildings, for it surrounded a court, stood at the corner of the Rues de la Pompe et des Bons Enfans. Behind it were its gardens.

Opposite, on the Rue des Bons Enfans, were the hotels of the Princes of Conde and the Dukes of Tremouille. The hotels of Luxembourg, Orleans, and Bouillon faced it on the Rue de la Pompe. The Noailles family were themselves many times of royal descent. Adjoining the hotel were the quarters of the Queen's equerries.

Germain sat in his apartment, watching, over the balcony of one of the windows, the incessant movement of lackeys, mounted officials, and carriages on the street near by. Raising his eyes across the gardens of the Tremouille Palace, he rested them with quickened delight on the elegant avenues and groves of the royal pleasure-realm, rich in the golden tones and clear air of an autumn morning.