There advanced into the room, with slouchy, ill-bred carriage, a young man whose sole reputation was that of being the greatest rake in Paris, the Duc de Richelieu, half-gamin, half-nobleman, who counted more victims among titled ladies than he had fingers on his hands, whose sole concern of living was to plan some new impassioned avowal, some new and pitiless abandonment. This creature, meeting the salute of the regent, and catching at the same moment a view of the regent's guest, found eyes for nothing else, and stood boldly gazing at the face of her whom Paris knew for the first time and under no more definite title than that of "Belle Sauvage."
"Pray you, be seated, Monsieur le Duc," said the regent, calmly, and the latter was wise enough to comply.
"Your Grace," said Madame de Sabran, "was it not understood that we were to meet to-night none less than the wizard, Monsieur L'as?"
"Monsieur L'as will be with us, and his brother," replied Philippe. "But now I ask you to bear witness to the shrewdness of your friend Philippe in entertainment. I bethought me that, as we were to have with us the master of the Messasebe, it were well to have with us also the typified genius of that same Messasebe. 'Twas but a little conceit of my own. And why—mon enfant, what is it to you? What do you know of our controller of finance?"
The face of the woman at his right had suddenly gone white with a pallor visible even beneath its rouge and patches. She half turned, as though to push back her chair from the board, would have arisen, would have spoken perhaps; yet act and gesture were at the time unnoticed.
"His Excellency, Monsieur Jean L'as, le contrôleur-général," came the soft tones of the attendant near the door. "Monsieur Guillaume L'as, brother of the contrôleur-général."
The eyes of all were turned toward the door. Every petted belle of Paris there assembled shifted bodily in her seat, turning her gaze upon that man whose reputation was the talk of all the realm of France.
There appeared now the tall, erect and vigorous form of a man owning a superb physical beauty. Powerful, yet not too heavy for ease, his figure retained that elasticity and grace which had won him favor in more than one court of Europe. He himself might have been king as he advanced steadily up the brilliantly-illuminated room. His costume, simply made, yet of the richest materials of the time; his wig, highly powdered though of modest proportions; his every item of apparel appeared alike of great simplicity and barren of pretentiousness. As much might be said for the garb of his brother, who stepped close behind him, a figure less self-contained than that of the man who now occupied the absorbed attention of the public mind, even as he now filled the eager eyes of those who turned to greet his entrance.
"Ah, Monsieur L'as, Monsieur L'as!" exclaimed Philippe of Orléans, stepping forward to welcome him and taking the hand of Law in both his own. "You are welcome, you are very welcome indeed. The soup will be with us presently, and the wine of Ai is with us now. You and your brother are with us; so all at last is well. These ladies are, as I believe, all within your acquaintance. You have been present at the salon of Madame de Tencin. You know her Grace the Duchesse de Falari, recently Madame d'Artague? Mademoiselle de Caylus you know very well, and of course also Mademoiselle Aïssé, la belle Circassienne—But what? Diable! Have you too gone mad? Come, is the sight of my guest too much for you also, Monsieur L'as?"
There was irritation in the tone with which the regent uttered this protest, yet he continued.