"You do us great honour," she repeated; for so strong-minded a person, the tone and words were vague.
"That is precisely what you do not think, madame," said Ratoneau, looking her straight in the face with a not unpleasant smile.
She was very conscious of the resolute will, the power to command, which the man possessed in common with his master. Who could refuse Napoleon anything? except a man or woman here and there with whom the repulsion was stronger than the attraction. Adélaïde de Sainfoy was not one of these.
"You are mistaken; I do," she said, and smiled back with all her brilliancy.
"It is true," he said, "I am not yet a Duke, or a Marshal of France, like the others. I have had enemies—envious people: my very wounds, marks of honour, have come between me and glory. But next year, madame, when I have swept the Chouans out of the West, you will see. I have a friend at Court, now, besides. One of the Empress's equerries, Monsieur Monge, is an old brother-in-arms of mine. The Emperor has ennobled him; he is the Baron de Beauclair—a prettier name than Monge, n'est-ce pas?"
"But that is charming! Tell me more about this friend of yours," said Madame de Sainfoy, rather eagerly.
This was a new view, a new possibility. Ratoneau knew what he was doing; he had not forgotten the Prefect's remark at Les Chouettes, some days before, as to Madame de Sainfoy's ambition of a place at Court for herself, as lady-in-waiting to the Empress. For a minute or two he swaggered on about his friend Monge; then suddenly turned again upon the Comtesse.
"But my answer, madame! There, you must excuse me; I am a rough soldier; I am not accustomed to wait for anything. When I want a thing, I ask for it. When it is not given at once—"
"You take it, I suppose? Yes: the wonder is that you should ask at all!" said Madame de Sainfoy.
Her look and smile seemed to turn the words, which might have been very scornful, into an easy little jest; but none the less they were a slight check on the airs of this conquering hero. He laughed.