The Indiscretion of the Duchess Part 7

"But what does it mean, sir?" she whispered.

"It means," said I, "that the duke takes me for the dismissed groom--and has re-engaged me."

"And you've come?" she cried softly, clasping her hands in amazement.

"Doesn't it appear so?"

"And you're going to stay, sir?"

"Ah, that's another matter. But--for the moment, yes."

"As a servant?"

"Why not--in such good company?"

"Does madame know?"

"Yes, she knows, Suzanne. Come, show me the way to my quarters; and no more 'sir' just now."

We were standing by the stairs. I looked up and saw the other girls cl.u.s.tered on the landing above us.

"Go and tell them," I said. "Warn them to show no surprise. Then come back and show me the way."

Suzanne, her mirth half-startled out of her but yet a.s.serting its existence in dimples round her mouth, went on her errand. I leaned against the lowest bal.u.s.ter and waited.

Suddenly the door of the d.u.c.h.ess' room was flung open and she came out.

She stood for an instant on the threshold. She turned toward the interior of the room and she stamped her foot on the parqueted floor.

"No--no--no!" she said pa.s.sionately, and flung the door close behind her, to the accompaniment of a harsh, scornful laugh.

Involuntarily I sprang forward to meet her. But she was better on her guard than I.

"Not now," she whispered, "but I must see you soon--this evening--after dinner. Suzanne will arrange it. You must help me, Mr. Aycon; I'm in trouble."

"With all my power!" I whispered, and with a glance of thanks she sped upstairs. I saw her stop and speak to the group of girls, talking to them in an eager whisper. Then, followed by two of them, she pursued her way upstairs.

Suzanne came down and approached me, saying simply, "Come," and led the way toward the servants' quarters. I followed her, smiling; I was about to make acquaintance with a new side of life.

Yet at the same time I was wondering who Mlle. Delha.s.se might chance to be: the name seemed familiar to me, and yet for the moment I could not trace it. And then I slapped my thigh in the impulse of my discovery.

"By Jove, Marie Delha.s.se the singer!" cried I, in English.

"Sir, sir, for Heaven's sake be quiet!" whispered Suzanne.

"You are perfectly right," said I, with a nod of approbation.

"And this is the pantry," said Suzanne, for all the world as though nothing had happened. "And in that cupboard you will find Sampson's livery."

"Is it a pretty one?" I asked.

"You, sir, will look well in it," said she, with that delicate evasive flattery that I love. "Would not you, sir, look well in anything?" she meant.

And while I changed my traveling suit for the livery, I remembered more about Marie Delha.s.se, and, among other things, that the Duke of Saint-Maclou was rumored to be her most persistent admirer. Some said that she favored him; others denied it with more or less conviction and indignation. But, whatever might chance to be the truth about that, it was plain that the d.u.c.h.ess had something to say for herself when she declined to receive the lady. Her refusal was no idle freak, but a fixed determination, to which she would probably adhere. And, in fact, adhere to it she did, even under some considerable changes of circ.u.mstance.

CHAPTER V.

A Strategic Retreat.

The arrival of the duke, aided perhaps by his bearing toward his wife and toward me, had a somewhat curious effect on me. I will not say that I felt at liberty to fall in love with the d.u.c.h.ess; but I felt the chain of honor, which had hitherto bound me from taking any advantage of her indiscretion, growing weaker; and I also perceived the possibility of my inclinations beginning to strain on the weakened chain. On this account, among others, I resolved, as I sat in the pantry drinking a gla.s.s of wine with which Suzanne kindly provided me, that my sojourn in the duke's household should be of the shortest. Moreover, I was not amused; I was not a real groom; the maids treated me with greater distance and deference than before; I lost the entertainment of upstairs, and did not gain the interest of downstairs. The absurd position must be ended. I would hear what the d.u.c.h.ess wanted of me; then I would go, leaving Lafleur to grapple with his increased labors as best he could. True, I should miss Marie Delha.s.se. Well, young men are foolish.

"Perhaps," said I to myself with a sigh, "it's just as well."

I did not wait at table that night; the d.u.c.h.ess was shut up in her own apartment: the duke took nothing but an omelette and a cup of coffee; these finished, he summoned Suzanne and her a.s.sistants to attend him on the bedroom floor, and I heard him giving directions for the lodging of the expected guests. Apparently they were to be received, although the d.u.c.h.ess would not receive them. Not knowing what to make of that situation, I walked out into the garden and lit my pipe; I had clung to that in spite of my change of raiment.

Presently Suzanne looked out. A call from the duke proclaimed that she had stolen a moment. She nodded, pointed to the narrow gravel path which led into the shrubbery, and hastily withdrew. I understood, and strolled carelessly along the path till I reached the shrubbery. There another little path, running nearly at right angles to that by which I had come, opened before me. I strolled some little way along, and finding myself entirely hidden from the house by the intervening trees, I sat down on a rude wooden bench to wait patiently till I should be wanted. For the d.u.c.h.ess I should have had to wait some time, but for company I did not wait long; after about ten minutes I perceived a small, spare, dark-complexioned man coming along the path toward me and toward the house. He must have made a short cut from the road, escaping the winding of the carriage-way. He wore decent but rather shabby clothes, and carried a small valise in his hand. Stopping opposite to me, he raised his hat and seemed to scan my neat blue bra.s.s-b.u.t.toned coat and white cords with interest.

"You belong to the household of the duke, sir?" he asked, with a polite lift of his hat.

I explained that I did--for the moment.

"Then you think of leaving, sir?"

"I do," I said, "as soon as I can; I am only engaged for the time."

"You do not happen to know, sir, if the duke requires a well-qualified indoor servant? I should be most grateful if you would present me to him.

I heard in Paris that a servant had left him; but he started so suddenly that I could not get access to him, and I have followed him here."

"It's exactly what he does want, I believe, sir," said I. "If I were you, I would go to the house and obtain entrance. The duke expects guests to-morrow."

"But yourself, sir? Are not your services sufficient for the present?"

"As you perceive," said I, indicating my attire, "I am not an indoor servant. I am but a makeshift in that capacity."

He smiled a polite remonstrance at my modesty, adding:

"You think, then, I might have a chance?"

"An excellent one, I believe. Turn to the left, there by the chestnut tree, and you will find yourself within a minute's walk of the front door."

He bowed, raised his hat, and trotted off, moving with a quick, shuffling, short-stepping gait. I lit another pipe and yawned. I hoped the duke would engage this newcomer and let me go about my business; and I fancied that he would, for the fellow looked dapper, sharp, and handy. And the d.u.c.h.ess?

I was so disturbed to find myself disturbed at the thought of the d.u.c.h.ess that I exclaimed:

"By Jove, I'd better go! By Jove, I had!"

A wishing-cap, or rather a hoping-cap--for if a man who is no philosopher may have an opinion, we do not always wish and hope for the same thing--could have done no more for me than the chance of Fate; for at the moment the duke's voice called "Sampson!" loudly from the house. I ran in obedience to his summons. He stood in the porch with the little stranger by him; and the stranger wore a deferential, but extremely well-satisfied smile.