"See," said the Chevalier gleefully, "how solemn he is! No strange thing, Carlomein, that I should be afraid of him. I wonder what he is thinking of! He has quite a countenance for a picture."
But Anastase had reached us before I had time to say, as I intended, "I know of what he is thinking."
He arrested himself suddenly, with a grace that charmed from his cool demeanor, and swept off his cap involuntarily. Holding it in his hand, and raising his serious gaze, he seemed waiting for the voice of the Chevalier. But, to my surprise, he had to wait several moments, during which they both regarded each other. At last Seraphael fairly laughed.
"Do you know, I had forgotten what I had to say, in contemplating you? It is what I call a musical phiz, yours."
Anastase smiled slightly, and then shut up his lips; but a sort of flush tinged his cheeks, I thought.
"Perhaps, Auchester, you can remind the Chevalier Seraphael."
I was so irritated at this observation that I kicked the gravel and dust, but did not trust myself to speak.
"Oh!" exclaimed Seraphael, quickly, "it was to request of you a favor,—a favor I should not dare to ask you unless I had heard what I heard to-day, and seen what I saw."
It might have been my fancy, but it struck me that the tones were singularly at variance with the words here. A suppressed disdain breathed underneath his accent.
"Sir," returned Anastase, with scarcely more warmth, "it is impossible but that I shall be ready to grant any favor in my power. I rejoice to learn that such a thing is so. I shall be much indebted if you can explain it to me at once, as I have to carry a message from Spoda to the Fräulein Cerinthia."