The foremost of the servants advanced; but Benoit met him with a blow from his own sturdy arm, which sent him reeling against the wall of the apartment. The other servants immediately threw themselves upon him, and the honest Languedocian, whose good angel always appeared to desert him when his services were most required, was in an instant borne away, kicking and struggling, to one of the underground chambers of the hôtel.
Meantime the company disposed themselves for the games. Lauzun went up to Louise, and assuring her that no evil was intended if she complied with their regulations, fastened the bandage once more across her eyes; whilst Marotte Dupré, who had some recollection of having seen her with Madame Scarron at Versailles, took off a rich cloak of green satin, with large full sleeves, which she had been wearing, and made the poor stranger don it, in lieu of the mantle which at present scarcely enveloped her dishabille, at the same time telling her that no evil was really intended to herself. The greater part of the company then formed into a large circle, holding hands, and moving round to measure, the band being apparently well aware of what was going on, although, as we have stated, concealed from the sight. Louise was placed on an elevated seat; a large basket, containing the awards, was placed at her side, and the game commenced.
A variety of intricate figures were first danced, in which the partners were frequently changed, somewhat in the style of our cotillons at the present day. In this the actresses showed themselves most apt, and they were now joined by the girls who had figured in the ballet. To avoid being particularised, Marie stood up with the rest, and the exceeding grace with which she threaded the mazes of the figure, attracted general attention. Lauzun saw that she evidently belonged to a phase of society superior to the majority; but he was unable to gain the slightest clue to her real name.
At last, at a given signal, they all stopped with the partners they happened to have at that instant, and then advanced in pairs before Louise, who tremblingly distributed the different articles to them; and the gentleman and lady were expected in turn to make some speech appropriate to the gifts presented. In this the principal address was shown; for whilst some could but mumble out a few clumsy phrases or compliments, others convulsed the assembly with laughter at a smart repartee or jest. Truth to tell, the greater portion of them were all tolerably well up to their business; for habitude had rendered them tolerably au fait at uttering a jest on the spur of the moment; and, as a pretty wide license was allowed, when a laugh could not be raised by wit it was done by entendre.
Lauzun had a small trinket-key given to him, and Estelle recommended him to keep it against he got into the Bastille, which would be sure to occur, in the common course of things, before three weeks. Marotte Dupré had a heart of sweetmeat, and her partner an imitation-piece of money of the same material, about which appropriate distributions Dubois made great mirth, having a ready tact for impromptus. When the signal for the cessation of the dance was made (which the leader of it generally took care to do when he found himself with an agreeable partner), Chavagnac was next to the Marchioness of Brinvilliers. He led her forward, and the rest of the company looked on with more than usual interest to see what the incognita would gain. By an error of Louise, who was throughout the ceremony so flurried that she scarcely knew what she was doing, she presented the first gift to Chavagnac—a small flacon of scent, than which nothing could be more absurd, rough soldier, almost marauder, as he was. But to Marie, and to her alone, her own present had a terrible meaning. It was a small headsman’s axe, in sugar and silver foil!
She sickened as she gazed at the terrible omen,—so perfectly unimportant to the rest of the company,—and turned away from the circle, heedless of some unmeaning words that Chavagnac addressed to her. In a few minutes the ring broke up, and then she approached Louise Gauthier and said hurriedly through her mask—
‘You cannot tell to what lengths of debauchery this reckless party may proceed. If you value your happiness, follow me directly, without a word or sign to anybody.’
Louise fancied she recognised the voice; but the circumstance of one like the Marchioness being in such a company appeared utterly improbable. She was also too anxious to escape from the hôtel; and as Marie seized her arm, she implicitly followed her to the door.
‘Stop, mes belles!’ cried Lauzun; ‘we cannot part yet: you may not be spared so early.’
‘I am faint with the heat,’ replied the Marchioness, ‘and only wish to go into the cool air for a minute; it will revive me.’