CHAPTER CXIII.
THE HOTEL TURENNE.
The host of the Hotel Turenne had punctually obeyed the orders of Count Falkenstein. He had taken every applicant for rooms, whether he came in an ignominious hackney-coach or in a magnificent carriage.
But now every room was taken, and the host, fearful of consequences, was waiting for the emperor to appear, that he might be informed of the important fact.
In ten or fifteen minutes, his imperial majesty was seen coming down the staircase, and Monsieur Louis approached, with a low bow.
"May I have the honor of speaking with Count Falkenstein?"
"Certainly," said the count. "What is it?"
"I wished to inform monsieur le comte, that my hotel is full to the garret. Should monsieur le comte, then, see a traveller leaving my door, he will know that I am not infringing his imp—his orders, I mean. I have not a single room left."
"Your hotel is popular. I congratulate you. But I am not at all surprised, for you make your visitors exceedingly comfortable."
"A thousand thanks, monsieur le comte, but that is not the reason. I have never been so thronged before. It is all owing to the honor conferred upon me by your—, I mean by monsieur le comte. It will be a heavy disappointment to all who apply to hear that I have no room."
"Monsieur Louis," said the emperor, "you are mistaken. There are two empty rooms, opening into mine."
"But monsieur le comte, it is impossible for me to let those rooms, for not only every word spoken in your own room can be overheard there, but yourself will be disturbed by hearing all that is said by the occupants. You see that these rooms cannot be occupied, monsieur le comte."
"I see nothing of the sort," said Joseph, laughing. "Not only are you welcome to let those two rooms, but I request you to do so. Let no man be incommoded on my account. I shall know how to submit to the inconvenience which may be entailed upon me."
"Well, he certainly is the most condescending and humane prince that I ever heard of," thought Monsieur Louis, as the emperor's carriage drove off. "And one thing is certain—I shall be careful whom I give him for neighbors. I do not believe a word of what the Count de Provence's valet says, that he wants to take Alsace and Lorraine, and has come to France to change the ministry. The king's brothers are not over-fond of the queen nor of the emperor but the people love them, and everybody in Paris envies me, now that I have the great emperor as my guest."
And Monsieur Louis, with head erect and hands folded behind him, went up and down his entrance hall, enjoying the sunshine of his favor with princes.
"I do wish nobody else would come here," thought he, in an ecstasy of disinterestedness. "Suppose that the enemies of his majesty should introduce a murderer in my house, and the emperor should lose his life! I should be eternally disgraced. I am really responsible to his majesty's subjects for his safety. I am resolved, since he has commanded me to let these rooms, to allow none but ladies to occupy them."
Filled with enthusiasm at this fortunate idea, the host walked to the door, and shook his fist at mankind in general—above all to that segregate of the male species who might happen to be entertaining thoughts of lodging at the Hotel Turenne.
Presently a travelling-chariot came thundering to the door. Monsieur Louis peered with his keen, black eyes into the vehicle, and, to his great relief, saw two ladies.
The gentleman who accompanied them asked to be accommodated with two rooms; and the host, in his joy, not only opened the coach door himself, but took the huge silver candelabrum from the butler's hand, and lighted the company himself to their apartments. As they reached the landing, a carriage stopped before the door, and a manly voice was heard in the vestibule below.
"How lucky for me that these happened to be women," thought Monsieur
Louis, "for there is the emperor already returned from the theatre!"
He opened the door of the anteroom, and his guests followed him in silence. Not a word had been spoken by either of the ladies, and nothing was to be seen of their faces through the thick veils which covered them.
"Do the ladies require supper?" inquired the host.
"Certainly," replied the gentleman whom Monsieur Louis took to be the husband of the lady who had seated herself. "The best you can provide; and let it be ready in quarter of an hour."
"Will madame be served in this room?"
"Yes; and see that we have plenty of light. Above all, be quick."
"This gentleman is very curt," thought the host, as he left the room. "What if he should entertain evil designs?—I must be on my guard." Then returning, he added, "Pardon, monsieur, for how many will supper be served?"
The stranger cast a singular glance at the lady in the arm-chair, and said in a loud and somewhat startling voice, "For two only."
"Right," thought the host, "the other one is a lady's maid. So much the worse. They are people of quality, and all that tribe hate the emperor. I must be on my guard."
So Monsieur Louis determined to warn the emperor; but first he attended to his professional duties. "Supper for the guests just arrived!" cried he to the chief butler. "Plenty of light for the chandeliers and candelabra! Let the cook be apprised that he must be ready before fifteen minutes."
Having delivered himself of these orders, the host hastened to inform the emperor's valet, Gunther, of his uneasiness and suspicions.
Meanwhile, the garcons were going hither and thither preparing supper for the strangers. Scarcely ten minutes had elapsed before the first course was upon the table, and the butler, with a bow, announced the supper.
The singular pair for whom these costly preparations had been made, spoke not a word to each other. The lady, motionless, kept within the privacy of her veil; and the gentleman, who was watching the waiters with an ugly frown, looked vexed and impatient.
"Retire, all of you," said be, imperiously. "I shall have the honor of waiting on madame myself."
The butler bowed, and, with his well-bred subordinates, left the room.
"Now, madame," said the stranger, with a glance of dislike, to the lady's maid, "do you leave the room also. Go and attend to your own wants. Good-night."
The maid made no reply, but remained standing in the window as though nothing had been said.
"You seem not to hear," said the stranger. "I order you to leave this room, and, furthermore, I order you to return to your place as a servant, and not to show yourself here in any other capacity. Go, and heed my words!"
The lady's maid smiled derisively and replied, "Count, I await my lady's orders."
The veiled lady then spoke. "Gratify the count, my good Dupont," said she, kindly. "I do not need you to-night. Let the host provide you with a comfortable room, and go to rest. You must be exhausted."
"At last, at last we are alone," exclaimed the count as the door closed upon his enemy, the lady's maid.
"Yes, we are alone," repeated the lady, and, throwing off her wrappings, the tall and elegant form of the Countess Esterhazy was disclosed to view.