Then a smothered laugh from
the brainless La Fosse seemed to break the spell. I frowned. It
was a climax of discourtesy whose impression I must at all costs
efface.
I leapt to my feet, with a suddenness that sent my chair gliding a
full half-yard along the glimmering parquet of the floor, and in two
strides I had reached the Count and put forth my hand to bid him
welcome. He took it with a leisureliness that argued sorrow. He
advanced into the full blaze of the candlelight, and fetched a dismal
sigh from the depths of his portly bulk.
"You are surprised to see me, Monsieur le Marquis," said he, and
his tone seemed to convey an apology for his coming - for his very
existence almost.
Now Nature had made my Lord of Chatellerault as proud and arrogant
as Lucifer - some resemblance to which illustrious personage his
downtrodden retainers were said to detect in the lineaments of his
swarthy face. Environment had added to that store of insolence
wherewith Nature had equipped him, and the King's favour - in which
he was my rival - had gone yet further to mould the peacock
attributes of his vain soul. So that this wondrous humble tone of
his gave me pause; for to me it seemed that not even a courtship
gone awry could account for it in such a man.
"I had not thought to find so many here," said he. And his next
words contained the cause of his dejected air. "The King, Monsieur
de Bardelys, has refused to see me; and when the sun is gone, we
lesser bodies of the courtly firmament must needs turn for light
and comfort to the moon.
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