“It is mille dommages,” quoth he as, bending his supple spine again, he drew his sword with a charming gesture of courtesy, “that this chaste salute should have to pass through the bitter waves of the Court doctor’s vinegar basin before reaching the virginal lips for which it is intended.”
“Then I may rely upon your countenance?” said I, unmindful of his mock Versailles floweriness as I fixed my missive to the point of the sword extended towards me for that purpose by the longest arm the little fellow could make. I knew he would not read the tell-tale inscription until the unpoetic process he had so feelingly lamented should have been gone through, and I wondered something anxiously whether it would not prove another complication, my wife in her wounded pride having thus chosen to conceal our marriage—in truth, I might have known it: had she not shaken off my ring? Seeing upon what grounds we had parted, however, I dared not have addressed her otherwise, and so could see no way but to run some risk.
“When may I hope to receive an answer?—you will forgive my impatience,” said I, with a somewhat rueful smile, “for you have some knowledge of the human heart, I see, and so I venture further to trespass on your great courtesy. I will meet here any messenger you may depute at any hour you name this afternoon.”
“Myself, sir, myself,” said the good-natured gentleman, “and in as short a space as possible. Shall we say three o’clock?”
There were then a few minutes wanting to noon by my uncle’s famous chronometer. Three hours seemed long, but, as we must ever learn to do in life, I had to be content with a slice where I wanted the loaf. (Now I have not even a crumb for my starving heart, and yet I live.)
As I had surmised, my messenger continued to hold the missive at the extreme length of his weapon and arm, while we made our divers congees and compliments. Thus we parted, he to withdraw to his guard-house, and I, with my attendant, to ride back to the nearest village, with what appetite we might for our noonday meal.
I rode alone again to the rendezvous, full early, poor fool! János I had sent on to find lodgings for me in the neighbourhood, out of range of infection, so that my time of purgatory need not be an hour prolonged.
The sky had cleared somewhat and it rained no more, but there was now a penetrating and moisture-charged wind. A little after the stroke of three my friend of the morning came forth, waved aside the sentry as before, and halted within the former distance, while I dismounted. His countenance was far from bearing the beaming cordiality with which he had last surveyed me, nor had his bow anything like its previous depth and roundness. He drew a folded paper from his pocket, attached it to the point of his sword, according to the process I had already witnessed, and presented it to me, observing drily:
“I regret, sir, that there seems to be some mistake about this matter. The Court doctor, who duly delivered the letter at the palace, informs me that none of her Highness’s ladies-in-waiting will consent to receive it, it being indeed addressed to some person unknown among them. There is no lady of the name of Jennico among her Highness’s attendants.”
I felt myself blanching.