Lucile Part 27

Lucile's eyes had follow'd his own, and discern'd The boast they implied.

He repeated, "And you?"

And, still watching Matilda, she answer'd, "I too."

And he thought, as with that word she left him, she sigh'd.

The next moment her place she resumed by the side Of Matilda; and they soon shook hands at the gate Of the selfsame hotel.

x.x.x.

One depress'd, one elate, The Duke and Lord Alfred again, thro' the glooms Of the thick linden alley, return'd to the Rooms.

His cigar each had lighted, a moment before, At the inn, as they turn'd, arm-in-arm, from the door.

Ems cigars do not cheer a man's spirits, experto (Me miserum quoties!) crede Roberto.

In silence, awhile, they walk'd onward.

At last The Duke's thoughts to language half consciously pa.s.s'd.

LUVOIS.

Once more! yet once more!

ALFRED.

What?

LUVOIS.

We meet her, once more, The woman for whom we two madmen of yore (Laugh, mon cher Alfred, laugh!) were about to destroy Each other!

ALFRED.

It is not with laughter that I Raise the ghost of that once troubled time. Say! can you Recall it with coolness and quietude now?

LUVOIS.

Now? yes! I, mon cher, am a true Parisien: Now, the red revolution, the tocsin, and then The dance and the play. I am now at the play.

ALFRED.

At the play, are you now? Then perchance I now may Presume, Duke, to ask you what, ever until Such a moment, I waited...

LUVOIS.

Oh! ask what you will.

Franc jeu! on the table my cards I spread out.

Ask!

ALFRED.

Duke, you were called to a meeting (no doubt You remember it yet) with Lucile. It was night When you went; and before you return'd it was light.

We met: you accosted me then with a brow Bright with triumph: your words (you remember them now!) Were "Let us be friends!"

LUVOIS.

Well?

ALFRED.

How then, after that Can you and she meet as acquaintances?

LUVOIS.

What!

Did she not then, herself, the Comtesse de Nevers, Solve your riddle to-night with those soft lips of hers?

ALFRED.

In our converse to-night we avoided the past.

But the question I ask should be answer'd at last: By you, if you will; if you will not, by her.

LUVOIS.

Indeed? but that question, milord, can it stir Such an interest in you, if your pa.s.sion be o'er?

ALFRED.

Yes. Esteem may remain, although love be no more.

Lucile ask'd me, this night, to my wife (understand, To MY WIFE!) to present her. I did so. Her hand Has clasp'd that of Matilda. We gentlemen owe Respect to the name that is ours: and, if so, To the woman that bears it a twofold respect.

Answer, Duc de Luvois! Did Lucile then reject The proffer you made of your hand and your name?

Or did you on her love then relinquish a claim Urged before? I ask bluntly this question, because My t.i.tle to do so is clear by the laws That all gentlemen honor. Make only one sign That you know of Lucile de Nevers aught, in fine, For which, if your own virgin sister were by, From Lucile you would shield her acquaintance, and I And Matilda leave Ems on the morrow.

x.x.xI.

The Duke Hesitated and paused. He could tell, by the look Of the man at his side, that he meant what he said, And there flash'd in a moment these thoughts through his head: "Leave Ems! would that suit me? no! that were again To mar all. And besides, if I do not explain, She herself will... et puis, il a raison: on est Gentilhomme avant tout!" He replied therefore, "Nay!

Madame de Nevers had rejected me. I, In those days, I was mad; and in some mad reply I threatened the life of the rival to whom That rejection was due, I was led to presume.

She fear'd for his life; and the letter which then She wrote me, I show'd you; we met: and again My hand was refused, and my love was denied, And the glance you mistook was the vizard which Pride Lends to Humiliation.

"And so," half in jest, He went on, "in this best world, 'tis all for the best; You are wedded (bless'd Englishman!) wedded to one Whose past can be called into question by none: And I (fickle Frenchman!) can still laugh to feel I am lord of myself; and the Mode: and Lucile Still shines from her pedestal, frigid and fair As yon German moon o'er the linden-tops there!

A Dian in marble that scorns any troth With the little love G.o.ds, whom I thank for us both, While she smiles from her lonely Olympus apart, That her arrows are marble as well as her heart.

Stay at Ems, Alfred Vargrave!"

x.x.xII.

The Duke, with a smile, Turn'd and enter'd the Rooms which, thus talking, meanwhile, They had reach'd.

x.x.xIII.