[CHAPTER XXV.]
GILBERT SNAPS GOLDEN CHAINS.
It is time to return to Gilbert.
Our little philosopher had cooled in his admiration for Chon since at the outbreak of the collision between Chevalier Jean and Philip of Taverney he had learnt the name of his protectress.
Often, at Taverney, when he was skulking and listening to the chat of the baron and his daughter, he had heard the old noble express himself plainly about the favorite Dubarry. His interested hatred had found a sympathetic echo in the boy's bosom; and Andrea never contradicted her father's abuse, for, it must be allowed, Lady Dubarry's name was deeply scorned in the country.
What completely ranked Gilbert on the side of the old noble was that Nicole had sometimes exclaimed:
"I wish I were Dubarry."
Chon was too busy after the duel to think about Gilbert, who forgot his bad impression as he entered the court capital in his frank admiration. He was still under the spell when he slept in the attic of the royal palace. The only matter in his dreams was that he, the poor boy, was lodged like the foremost noblemen of France, without his being a courtier or a lackey.
Gilbert was in one of the thinking fits common to him when events surpassed his will or comprehension, when he was told that Mademoiselle Chon wanted to see him. She was waiting in her carriage for him to accompany her on a ride. She sat in the front seat, with a large chest and a small dog. Gilbert and a steward named Cranche were to have the other places.
To preserve his position, Gilbert sat behind Chon, and the steward, without even thinking of objecting, sat behind the dog and box.