The Golden Dog [275]
other experts of the Court swore that the petits appartements of Versailles, or even the royal fetes of the Parc aux cerfs, could not surpass the high life and jollity of the Palace of the Intendant.
In that wild fashion Bigot had passed the night previous to his present visit to Angelique. The Chevalier de Pean rode the length of the Grande Allee and returned. The valet and horse of the Intendant were still waiting at the door, and De Pean saw Bigot and Angelique still seated at the window engaged in a lively conversation, and not apparently noticing his presence in the street as he sat pulling hairs out of the mane of his horse, "with the air of a man in love," as Angelique laughingly remarked to Bigot.
Her quick eye, which nothing could escape, had seen De Pean the first time he passed the house. She knew that he had come to visit her, and seeing the horse of the Intendant at the door, had forborne to enter,--that would not have been the way with Le Gardeur, she thought. He would have entered all the readier had even the Dauphin held her in conversation.
Angelique was woman enough to like best the bold gallant who carries the female heart by storm and puts the parleying garrison of denial to the sword, as the Sabine women admired the spirit of their Roman captors and became the most faithful of wives.
De Pean, clever and unprincipled, was a menial in his soul, as cringing to his superiors as he was arrogant to those below him.
"Fellow!" said he to Bigot's groom, "how long has the Intendant been here?"
"All the afternoon, Chevalier," replied the man, respectfully uncovering his head.
"Hum! and have they sat at the window all the time?"
"I have no eyes to watch my master," replied the groom; "I do not know."
"Oh!" was the reply of De Pean, as he suddenly reflected that it were best for himself also not to be seen watching his master too closely. He uttered a spurt of ill humor, and continued pulling the mane of his horse through his fingers.
"The Chevalier de Pean is practising patience to-day, Bigot," said she; "and you give him enough time to exercise it."
"You wish me gone, Angelique!" said he, rising; "the Chevalier de Pean is naturally waxing impatient, and you too!"
"Pshaw!" exclaimed she; "he shall wait as long as I please to keep him there."
"Or as long as I stay. He is an accommodating lover, and will make an equally accommodating husband for his wife's friend some day!" remarked Bigot laughingly.
Angelique's eyes flashed out fire, but she little knew how true a word Bigot had spoken in jest. She could have choked him for mentioning her in connection with De Pean, but remembering she was now at his mercy, it was necessary to cheat and cozen this man by trying to please him.
"Well, if you must go, you must, Chevalier! Let me tie that string," continued she, approaching him in her easy manner. The knot of his cravat was loose. Bigot glanced admiringly at her slightly flushed cheek and dainty fingers as she tied the loose ends of his rich steinkirk together.
"'Tis like love," said she, laughingly; "a slip-knot that looks tied until it is tried."
She glanced at Bigot, expecting him to thank her, which he did with a simple word. The thought of Caroline flashed over his mind like lightning at that moment. She, too, as they walked on the shore of the Bay of Minas had once tied the string of his cravat, when for the first time he read in her flushed cheek and trembling fingers that she loved him. Bigot, hardy as he was and reckless, refrained from touching the hand or even looking at Angelique at this moment.
With the quick perception of her sex she felt it, and drew back a step, not knowing but the next moment might overwhelm her with an accusation. But Bigot was not sure, and he dared not hint to Angelique more than he had done.
"Thanks for tying the knot, Angelique," said he at length. "It is a hard knot, mine, is it not, both to tie and to untie?"
She looked at him, not pretending to understand any meaning he might attach to his words. "Yes,
In that wild fashion Bigot had passed the night previous to his present visit to Angelique. The Chevalier de Pean rode the length of the Grande Allee and returned. The valet and horse of the Intendant were still waiting at the door, and De Pean saw Bigot and Angelique still seated at the window engaged in a lively conversation, and not apparently noticing his presence in the street as he sat pulling hairs out of the mane of his horse, "with the air of a man in love," as Angelique laughingly remarked to Bigot.
Her quick eye, which nothing could escape, had seen De Pean the first time he passed the house. She knew that he had come to visit her, and seeing the horse of the Intendant at the door, had forborne to enter,--that would not have been the way with Le Gardeur, she thought. He would have entered all the readier had even the Dauphin held her in conversation.
Angelique was woman enough to like best the bold gallant who carries the female heart by storm and puts the parleying garrison of denial to the sword, as the Sabine women admired the spirit of their Roman captors and became the most faithful of wives.
De Pean, clever and unprincipled, was a menial in his soul, as cringing to his superiors as he was arrogant to those below him.
"Fellow!" said he to Bigot's groom, "how long has the Intendant been here?"
"All the afternoon, Chevalier," replied the man, respectfully uncovering his head.
"Hum! and have they sat at the window all the time?"
"I have no eyes to watch my master," replied the groom; "I do not know."
"Oh!" was the reply of De Pean, as he suddenly reflected that it were best for himself also not to be seen watching his master too closely. He uttered a spurt of ill humor, and continued pulling the mane of his horse through his fingers.
"The Chevalier de Pean is practising patience to-day, Bigot," said she; "and you give him enough time to exercise it."
"You wish me gone, Angelique!" said he, rising; "the Chevalier de Pean is naturally waxing impatient, and you too!"
"Pshaw!" exclaimed she; "he shall wait as long as I please to keep him there."
"Or as long as I stay. He is an accommodating lover, and will make an equally accommodating husband for his wife's friend some day!" remarked Bigot laughingly.
Angelique's eyes flashed out fire, but she little knew how true a word Bigot had spoken in jest. She could have choked him for mentioning her in connection with De Pean, but remembering she was now at his mercy, it was necessary to cheat and cozen this man by trying to please him.
"Well, if you must go, you must, Chevalier! Let me tie that string," continued she, approaching him in her easy manner. The knot of his cravat was loose. Bigot glanced admiringly at her slightly flushed cheek and dainty fingers as she tied the loose ends of his rich steinkirk together.
"'Tis like love," said she, laughingly; "a slip-knot that looks tied until it is tried."
She glanced at Bigot, expecting him to thank her, which he did with a simple word. The thought of Caroline flashed over his mind like lightning at that moment. She, too, as they walked on the shore of the Bay of Minas had once tied the string of his cravat, when for the first time he read in her flushed cheek and trembling fingers that she loved him. Bigot, hardy as he was and reckless, refrained from touching the hand or even looking at Angelique at this moment.
With the quick perception of her sex she felt it, and drew back a step, not knowing but the next moment might overwhelm her with an accusation. But Bigot was not sure, and he dared not hint to Angelique more than he had done.
"Thanks for tying the knot, Angelique," said he at length. "It is a hard knot, mine, is it not, both to tie and to untie?"
She looked at him, not pretending to understand any meaning he might attach to his words. "Yes,