The Road to Paris Part 32

"No, my lord, I would never serve this Landgrave as a soldier,--nor in any other post, but for one reason."

His lordship, though puzzled, was too polite to ask what the reason was.

"Very well," said he, after a moment's silence, "we shall see to-morrow.

I shall try to lure away some under-clerk from a brilliant official career, as my secretary, and to get you in his place,--if you continue of the same mind."

"My lord, you are destined to be always my Good Samaritan," cried d.i.c.k, his eyes suddenly moist with grat.i.tude. He considered that, in occupying a civil sinecure under the Landgrave, he would not in reality be serving that virtual enemy to his country, but would be merely supporting himself by means of that enemy; that is to say, he would be, in time of necessity, existing at the expense of the foe, according to the custom of war. Moreover, his position might enable him to serve his country directly, by giving him early intelligence of future movements by Hessian troops, and, perhaps, of future intentions of England.

They drove to a costumer's, obtained dominoes, and, at six o'clock, returned to the palace, where they found the gentlemen of the court all in dominoes, the ladies in ordinary ball dress. Card tables had been set, and the Landgrave played at cavaniolle with a rather talkative party of about a dozen members, while the Landgravine took a hand at quadrille with a trio of her own choosing. A number of players occupied tables in adjoining rooms. d.i.c.k helped make up a game at which Captain von Romberg and two placid, apple-cheeked baronesses were the other partic.i.p.ants, but his eyes roved from his cards, in vain search of Catherine.

While the games were going on, a gentleman pa.s.sed around with a hat containing small tickets. Each lady took one of these, when the hat was offered her, and then similar tickets were drawn by the gentlemen. d.i.c.k saw that his ticket bore the number twenty-three, and he learned from the talk of his fellow players that the lady who had drawn the same number would be his partner at supper and at the dance. Presently an officer began calling out the numbers, a lady declaring herself at each number, and a gentleman offering his arm to lead her out to supper.

"I wonder who has twenty-three," said d.i.c.k, indifferently, to Lord George, who had meanwhile rejoined him.

"I can't tell you that," replied his lordship, "but I know who has my number, seventeen. I happened to see her ticket, when she held it up to the light. She is that splendid, dark-eyed creature, standing yonder under the candles."

d.i.c.k's glance turned idly towards the indicated place. Suddenly he became afire.

"My lord," he almost gasped, "be my Good Samaritan once again. Exchange tickets with me, for heaven's sake!"

"Why, certainly. That gives me back the uncertainty to which this game ent.i.tles me." And the exchange was quickly made.

"Seventeen," was called out, and d.i.c.k advanced, with beating heart, to meet Catherine. She colored again--was it with pleasure?--as she took his proffered arm. They walked in silence to the supper-room.

At supper there was more ease and animation than there had been at dinner. This circ.u.mstance favored conversation between d.i.c.k and his partner.

"I should not have expected to meet you so far from where I saw you last," he began, in a low voice.

"Nor I to meet you," she replied, speaking without haste, and with the gravity that characterized her.

"Oh, my coming here was a very simple matter. Sent to England as a prisoner, I escaped to France, and there fell in with an English n.o.bleman, whose travels brought him this way. I am his secretary. It is not known I am an American."

"My coming here was quite as simple," said she, with a slight smile. "My brother and I came to France to receive a small bequest left by a cousin of my mother's. In Paris we met a distant relation,--one of the ladies of her highness the Landgravine. When she returned to Ca.s.sel, she obtained for me a post as lady-in-waiting. French people are in request at the German courts."

"And Monsieur Gerard?"

"My brother is in the foot-guards."

"I should like to see him," said d.i.c.k, and added, with special intention, "I suppose he has forgotten me."

"Oh, no, monsieur," she replied, quite artlessly; "we have often talked of you. Our grat.i.tude for recovering the portrait, and risking your life to bring it to us--"

"'Twas the opportunity of risking it to serve you, that made my life worth having," he said, in a tone little above a whisper.

"My brother will be glad to learn that your life was surely saved," she replied, avoiding d.i.c.k's glance.

"And you, who saved it?"

"I, too, of course."

The words were nothing, but the slight blush with which she uttered them was eloquent.

After supper, all the company put on masks with which they had provided themselves. The Landgravine was led to the ballroom by her partner, an owlish colonel, and the other couples followed. Her highness stopped at the upper end of the room, the second couple stopped immediately below this, and at last there was a double file extending the length of the hall. This arrangement seemed to promise a country-dance, but when the music began, d.i.c.k found that a form of minuet was intended. When this had been walked through, everybody sat down, except the Landgravine, who then danced with several different gentlemen in succession.

After this there were minuets and country-dances. The company was augmented by maskers from the town, some in fancy dresses; while several who belonged to the court, having meanwhile slipped out, returned in different costume, so as to be really disguised,--for on first entering the masquerade-room, all were known, notwithstanding their masks.

Everybody was now on a footing, and the maskers mingled promiscuously.

But d.i.c.k remained with Catherine, who showed no desire for other company. He thought himself in the midst of paradise, until suddenly she said:

"Her highness is retiring. I must go."

"But, mademoiselle, the others are not going!"

"The others are not keepers of her highness's robes," said Catherine.

"But one moment! When may I see you again?"

"How can I say? My hours of duty are long. I am usually free in the afternoon, from three to five o'clock. On occasions like this, sometimes I attend her highness, sometimes I may do as I please."

"From three to five, you say. I suppose you remain in the palace then?"

"Except when I visit my brother. I must go now, monsieur. _Au revoir!_"

In a moment she was lost in the crowd. You may be sure much had been said, between their opening colloquy at supper and their brief dialogue at parting, to bring about the tacit understanding of a future meeting.

So she was in the habit of going to see her brother! d.i.c.k had learned that the Prussian system was followed in Ca.s.sel,--that the troops, instead of being lodged in barracks, were quartered with citizens. He walked the next morning to the drill-ground and armory of the foot-guards, and, happily meeting Captain von Romberg, learned where Gerard had lodgings. He went immediately to the house, which was in a street running east from the platz and through the southern extremity of the old town. It was the house of a glover, whose shop was on the ground floor. Gerard was out on duty.

d.i.c.k, finding that the guardsman occupied the first-floor room towards the street, immediately hired a corresponding room in an obscure inn across the way. He waited at the inn door till he saw Gerard, in military coat and buff cross belt, coming down the street; he then crossed over, with a preoccupied air, as if going about his business.

Looking up suddenly, as he came face to face with the soldier, d.i.c.k pretended the greatest surprise at recognizing Monsieur de St. Valier.

The recognition was not mutual at first, but, as soon as d.i.c.k had recalled himself to the other, the young Frenchman became instantly cordial. A minute later the two were sitting in Gerard's room, expressing wonder at the strange chance that had made d.i.c.k a lodger across the street from Gerard.

They dined together at the table d'hote of d.i.c.k's inn, and then returned to Gerard's house, where the marvellous coincidence had to be discussed over again when Gerard's sister called in the afternoon. It was his custom to receive her in the glover's back parlor, and on this occasion d.i.c.k was of course invited to be present. Not until she had gone back to the palace, did d.i.c.k return to Lord George, who had been mystified at his absence.

"I have found a secretary," said his lordship, who also had pa.s.sed a great part of the day out of the hotel, "in the shape of a clerk at the French resident's office, who has got into trouble over cards and a woman and has to seek other pastures. But the vacancy he will leave is already provided for. I don't know what can be done for you if you are determined to remain here."

"I shall find something," said d.i.c.k; "and, meanwhile, I've taken a room at a cheaper hotel, where I can live for some time on the money I have.

But I am as grateful to you--"

"As if I had ever really done anything for you," broke in Lord George, who liked expressions of grat.i.tude to be cut short. He supposed that d.i.c.k's "some time" meant several weeks, whereas it really meant three days.

The next afternoon there was a review of the first battalion of guards, in that part of the park which lay between the summer palace and the menagerie. Lord George remained at Ca.s.sel on the pretext of a desire to see an exhibition of target-shooting that was to be given in connection with the review, by certain of the guardsmen. d.i.c.k guessed that his lordship's real purpose in tarrying was to make further effort towards obtaining employment for him.

The two met at Lord George's hotel (d.i.c.k having already moved to the inn opposite the glover's), and rode on hired horses to the reviewing-ground.

It was a fine day, warm and sunny. The Landgrave and his chief officers were present on horseback. The Landgravine and several ladies were in carriages, at that side of the park which bordered on the Fulda and at which was the menagerie. d.i.c.k and Lord George took station, with several other hors.e.m.e.n, near the Landgrave's party. When the shooting at mark began, d.i.c.k found himself near the place where the men stood while firing. The compet.i.tors were drawn up in line, at right angles with the line formed by the rest of the battalion. This latter line formed the western side of an imaginary square, the targets were midway in the south side of the same square, the east side was formed by the menagerie and the carriages, while the north side began with the line of marksmen, and was continued eastward by the groups of hors.e.m.e.n. After a few shots had been fired, d.i.c.k observed that the Landgravine and other ladies had got out of their carriages and were standing at some distance from them, so as to see better the effect of each shot.

Some one had just called d.i.c.k's attention to the fact that Mlle. F----, the Landgrave's Parisian mistress, was standing within a few feet of the Landgrave's wife, when suddenly a terrible roar came from the menagerie, followed a moment later by a great four-footed, striped figure, which bounded into sight, then crouched and looked around with ferocious curiosity.

"The tiger has broken out!" an officer exclaimed, while everybody gazed at the animal as if struck dumb with sudden amazement and alarm.