There followed immediately such a chorus of questions, exclamations, and shrill protests from Madame Bouvet, that I (being such a laborious French scholar) could distinguish but little of what they said.I looked in wonderment at the gesticulating figures grouped against the light, Madame imploring, the youthful profile of the newcomer marked with a cynical and scornful refusal.More than once I was for rising out of my chair to go over and see for myself what the object was, and then, suddenly, Iperceived Madame Bouvet coming towards me in evident agitation.She sank into the chair beside me.
``If I had four hundred livres,'' she said, ``if I had four hundred livres!''
``And what then?'' I asked.
``Monsieur,'' she said, ``a terrible thing has happened.
Auguste de Saint-Gre--''
``Auguste de Saint-Gre!'' I exclaimed.
``He is the son of that Monsieur de Saint-Gre of whom we spoke,'' she answered, ``a wild lad, a spendthrift, a gambler, if you like.And yet he is a Saint-Gre, Monsieur, and I cannot refuse him.It is the miniature of Mademoiselle Helene de Saint-Gre, the daughter of the Marquis, sent to Mamselle 'Toinette, his sister, from France.How he has obtained it I know not.''
``Ah!'' I exclaimed sharply, the explanation of the scene of which I had been a witness coming to me swiftly.
The rascal had wrenched it from her in the gallery and fled.
``Monsieur,'' continued Madame, too excited to notice my interruption, ``if I had four hundred livres I would buy it of him, and Monsieur de Saint-Gre pere would willingly pay it back in the morning.''
I reflected.I had a letter in my pocket to Monsieur de Saint-Gre, the sum was not large, and the act of Monsieur Auguste de Saint-Gre in every light was detestable.Arising anger decided me, and I took a wallet from my pocket.
``I will buy the miniature, Madame,'' I said.
She looked at me in astonishment.
``God bless you, Monsieur,'' she cried; ``if you could see Mamselle 'Toinette you would pay twice the sum.The whole town loves her.Monsieur Auguste, Monsieur Auguste!'' she shouted, ``here is a gentleman who will buy your miniature.''
The six young men stopped talking and stared at me With one accord.Madame arose, and I followed her down the room towards them, and, had it not been for my indignation, I should have felt sufficiently ridiculous.
Young Monsieur de Saint-Gre came forward with the good-natured, easy insolence to which he had been born, and looked me over.
``Monsieur is an American,'' he said.
``I understand that you have offered this miniature for four hundred livres,'' I said.
``It is the Jew's price,'' he answered; ``mais pardieu, what will you?'' he added with a shrug, ``I must have the money.Regardez, Monsieur, you have a bargain.
Here is Mademoiselle Helene de Saint-Gre, daughter of my lord the Marquis of whom I have the honor to be a cousin,'' and he made a bow.``It is by the famous court painter, Joseph Boze, and Mademoiselle de Saint-Gre herself is a favorite of her Majesty.'' He held the portrait close to the candle and regarded it critically.
``Mademoiselle Helene Victoire Marie de Saint-Gre, painted in a costume of Henry the Second's time, with a ruff, you notice, which she wore at a ball given by his Highness the Prince of Conde at Chantilly.A trifle haughty, if you like, Monsieur, but I venture to say you will be hopelessly in love with her within the hour.''
At this there was a general titter from the young gentlemen at the table.
``All of which is neither here nor there, Monsieur,'' Ianswered sharply.``The question is purely a commercial one, and has nothing to do with the lady's character or position.''
``It is well said, Monsieur,'' Madame Bouvet put in.
Monsieur Auguste de Saint-Gre shrugged his slim shoulders and laid down the portrait on the walnut table.
``Four hundred livres, Monsieur,'' he said.
I counted out the money, scrutinized by the curious eyes of his companions, and pushed it over to him.He bowed carelessly, sat him down, and began to shuffle the cards, while I picked up the miniature and walked out of the room.Before I had gone twenty paces I heard them laughing at their game and shouting out the stakes.
Suddenly I bethought myself of Nick.What if he should come in and discover the party at the table? I stopped short in the hallway, and there Madame Bouvet overtook me.
``How can I thank you, Monsieur?'' she said.And then, ``You will return the portrait to Monsieur de Saint-Gre?''
``I have a letter from Monsieur Gratiot to that gentleman, which I shall deliver in the morning,'' I answered.
``And now, Madame, I have a favor to ask of you.''
``I am at Monsieur's service,'' she answered simply.
``When Mr.Temple comes in, he is not to go into that room,'' I said, pointing to the door of the saloon; ``I have my reasons for requesting it.''
For answer Madame went to the door, closed it, and turned the key.Then she sat down beside a little table with a candlestick and took up her knitting.
``It will be as Monsieur says,'' she answered.
I smiled.
``And when Mr.Temple comes in will you kindly say that I am waiting for him in his room?'' I asked.
``As Monsieur says,'' she answered.``I wish Monsieur a good-night and pleasant dreams.''
She took a candlestick from the table, lighted the candle, and handed it me with a courtesy.I bowed, and made my way along the gallery above the deserted court-yard.
Entering my room and closing the door after me, I drew the miniature from my pocket and stood gazing at it for Iknow not how long.
