The princess, with a rapid step, traversed the long alley of pines which led to one of the wings of the palace.
From time to time the clear moonbeams, struggling through the thick branches of the trees, chequered the ground with patches of light, and displayed the singular effect produced by the figure of the princess as she flitted along in her dark floating drapery, beneath the alternations of light and darkness.
The princely dwellings of that period had all, in common with the Hôtel Lambert, their small secret staircase leading to the private apartments.
The extreme ceremony always kept up, the exactions of full dress and etiquette, with the immense number of servants of all ranks, perpetually hurrying to and fro on their respective duties, left the occupants of these mansions so little at liberty during the day, that they were generally reduced to the necessity of availing themselves of nocturnal expeditions to effect any important business.
Thus, then, there will not appear any thing inconsistent with the custom of the period we are treating of in Madame de Hansfeld's pausing as she reached the left wing of the palace, opening a small door concealed among a clump of trees, and lightly ascending a narrow winding staircase, which quickly brought her to a large anteroom leading to her sleeping-apartment.
Scarcely had the princess entered, than she threw herself into an easy chair, as though exhausted with fatigue.
During this time, the individual who had followed her carefully bolted and secured the door conducting to the secret staircase, then, throwing off the large hat and cloak, discovered a female form.
Stooping towards the hearth, this person rekindled the half-expiring embers, lit the wax-lights, and proceeded into the chamber of Madame de Hansfeld, to satisfy herself that nothing had occurred by which her absence could have been suspected.
The princess, meanwhile, after a momentary languor and apparent depression of spirits, tore off her mask, then, abruptly rising, unfastened the girdle of her domino, which she threw on the ground, and trampled upon with rage.
Beneath the outer garment so rudely treated, the princess wore a black robe, with short sleeves, thus revealing arms, shoulders, and bust, worthy of the classic beauty of a Diana. Her countenance, so proud, chill, and imperturbable, while conversing with M. de Morville, was now agitated by a whirlwind of the most stormy passions. Her somewhat hollow eyes glittered like dark diamonds. Standing erect before the large glass which surmounted the chimney-piece, she appeared as though desirous of crushing the marble mantel-piece with the convulsive pressure of her clenched hands. Wholly absorbed by the stormy passions which raged within her, she perceived not the return of her companion. And a more singular person could not be seen. A deep brown, resembling the hue of Florentine bronze, tinged her colourless cheek, and displayed more strikingly the pearly whiteness of the eyeball with the clear blue of the pupil; her thick chestnut hair was cut short, curled, and parted on the forehead, after the fashion of many of the male sex, who in the present day wear their hair of an almost feminine length. Her well-formed and regular features had an undaunted and almost masculine expression, and when she unclosed her red thin lips, she displayed a set of teeth, white enough, indeed, to have disarmed all criticism, but standing at wide distances from each other.