The Golden Dog [286]
my anxiety. God help you! God defend you!"
She looked at him fixedly for a moment. He saw her features were quivering with emotion and her eyes filled with tears.
"Good dame," said he kindly, taking her hand, "I respect your motives, and will so far show my regard for your forecast of danger as to take my sword, which, after a good conscience, is the best friend a gentleman can have to stand by him in peril. Please bring it to me."
"Willingly, master, and may it be like the sword of the cherubim, to guard and protect you to-day!"
She went into the great hall for the rapier of the Bourgeois, which he only wore on occasions of full dress and ceremony. He took it smilingly from her hand, and, throwing the belt over his shoulder, bade Dame Rochelle good-by, and proceeded to the market.
The dame looked earnestly after him until he turned the corner of the great Cathedral, when, wiping her eyes, she went into the house and sat down pensively for some minutes.
"Would that Pierre had not gone to St. Ann's to-day!" cried she. "My master! my noble, good master! I feel there is evil abroad for him in the market to-day." She turned, as was her wont in time of trouble, to the open Bible that ever lay upon her table, and sought strength in meditation upon its sacred pages.
There was much stir in the market when the Bourgeois began his accustomed walk among the stalls, stopping to converse with such friends as he met, and especially with the poor and infirm, who did not follow him--he hated to be followed,--but who stood waiting his arrival at certain points which he never failed to pass. The Bourgeois knew that his poor almsmen would be standing there, and he would no more avoid them than he would avoid the Governor.
A group of girls very gaily dressed loitered through the market, purchasing bouquets of the last of autumnal flowers, and coquetting with the young men of fashion who chose the market-place for their morning promenade, and who spent their smiles and wit freely, and sometimes their money, upon the young ladies they expected to find there.
This morning the Demoiselles Grandmaison and Hebert were cheapening immortelles and dry flowers to decorate their winter vases,--a pleasant fashion, not out of date in the city at the present day.
The attention of these young ladies was quite as much taken up with the talk of their cavaliers as with their bargaining when a quick exclamation greeted them from a lady on horseback, accompanied by the Chevalier de Pean. She drew bridle sharply in front of the group, and leaning down from her saddle gave her hand to the ladies, bidding them good morning in a cheery voice which there was no mistaking, although her face was invisible behind her veil. It was Angelique des Meloises, more gay and more fascinating than ever.
She noticed two gentlemen in the group. "Oh, pardon me, Messieurs Le Mercier and d'Estebe!" said she. "I did not perceive you. My veil is so in the way!" She pushed it aside coquettishly, and gave a finger to each of the gentlemen, who returned her greeting with extreme politeness.
"Good morning! say you, Angelique?" exclaimed Mademoiselle Hebert; "it is a good noon. You have slept rarely! How bright and fresh you look, darling!"
"Do I not!" laughed Angelique in reply. "It is the morning air and a good conscience make it! Are you buying flowers? I have been to Sillery for mine!" said she, patting her blooming cheeks with the end of her riding-whip. She had no time for further parley, for her attention was suddenly directed by De Pean to some stir upon the other side of the market, with an invitation to her to ride over and see what was the matter. Angelique at once wheeled her horse to accompany De Pean.
The group of girls felt themselves eclipsed and overborne by the queenly airs of Angelique, and were glad when she moved off, fearing that by some adroit manoeuvre she would carry off their cavaliers. It needed but a word, as they knew, to draw them all after her.
Angelique, under the lead of De Pean, rode quickly
She looked at him fixedly for a moment. He saw her features were quivering with emotion and her eyes filled with tears.
"Good dame," said he kindly, taking her hand, "I respect your motives, and will so far show my regard for your forecast of danger as to take my sword, which, after a good conscience, is the best friend a gentleman can have to stand by him in peril. Please bring it to me."
"Willingly, master, and may it be like the sword of the cherubim, to guard and protect you to-day!"
She went into the great hall for the rapier of the Bourgeois, which he only wore on occasions of full dress and ceremony. He took it smilingly from her hand, and, throwing the belt over his shoulder, bade Dame Rochelle good-by, and proceeded to the market.
The dame looked earnestly after him until he turned the corner of the great Cathedral, when, wiping her eyes, she went into the house and sat down pensively for some minutes.
"Would that Pierre had not gone to St. Ann's to-day!" cried she. "My master! my noble, good master! I feel there is evil abroad for him in the market to-day." She turned, as was her wont in time of trouble, to the open Bible that ever lay upon her table, and sought strength in meditation upon its sacred pages.
There was much stir in the market when the Bourgeois began his accustomed walk among the stalls, stopping to converse with such friends as he met, and especially with the poor and infirm, who did not follow him--he hated to be followed,--but who stood waiting his arrival at certain points which he never failed to pass. The Bourgeois knew that his poor almsmen would be standing there, and he would no more avoid them than he would avoid the Governor.
A group of girls very gaily dressed loitered through the market, purchasing bouquets of the last of autumnal flowers, and coquetting with the young men of fashion who chose the market-place for their morning promenade, and who spent their smiles and wit freely, and sometimes their money, upon the young ladies they expected to find there.
This morning the Demoiselles Grandmaison and Hebert were cheapening immortelles and dry flowers to decorate their winter vases,--a pleasant fashion, not out of date in the city at the present day.
The attention of these young ladies was quite as much taken up with the talk of their cavaliers as with their bargaining when a quick exclamation greeted them from a lady on horseback, accompanied by the Chevalier de Pean. She drew bridle sharply in front of the group, and leaning down from her saddle gave her hand to the ladies, bidding them good morning in a cheery voice which there was no mistaking, although her face was invisible behind her veil. It was Angelique des Meloises, more gay and more fascinating than ever.
She noticed two gentlemen in the group. "Oh, pardon me, Messieurs Le Mercier and d'Estebe!" said she. "I did not perceive you. My veil is so in the way!" She pushed it aside coquettishly, and gave a finger to each of the gentlemen, who returned her greeting with extreme politeness.
"Good morning! say you, Angelique?" exclaimed Mademoiselle Hebert; "it is a good noon. You have slept rarely! How bright and fresh you look, darling!"
"Do I not!" laughed Angelique in reply. "It is the morning air and a good conscience make it! Are you buying flowers? I have been to Sillery for mine!" said she, patting her blooming cheeks with the end of her riding-whip. She had no time for further parley, for her attention was suddenly directed by De Pean to some stir upon the other side of the market, with an invitation to her to ride over and see what was the matter. Angelique at once wheeled her horse to accompany De Pean.
The group of girls felt themselves eclipsed and overborne by the queenly airs of Angelique, and were glad when she moved off, fearing that by some adroit manoeuvre she would carry off their cavaliers. It needed but a word, as they knew, to draw them all after her.
Angelique, under the lead of De Pean, rode quickly