"The young Queen Bacchanal
She saw a Cardinal,
And said: Let's have some fun,
And make him dance and run—
La rifla-fla-fla-fla, la rifla-fla-fla-fla,
La rifla-fla-fla-fla-fla-fla-fla!"
So saying, Pradeline raised the hem of her dress and started to pirouet around the room with great grace and utterly unconstrained, all the while singing her latest improvisation, while the valet, standing motionless at the half-opened door was with difficulty keeping a serious face, and the Count of Plouernel, nettled at the freedom of the brazen minx, called to her:
"Come, my dear; that's foolish; keep still."
Cardinal Plouernel, just announced, not caring to be kept waiting in his nephew's ante-chamber, and little imagining him to be in such profane company, had followed upon the heels of the valet, and entered the room just as Pradeline, throwing out her well shaped limb, undulated her upper body as she sang:
"Oh, let us have some fun,
And make him dance and run!
La rifla-fla-fla-fla, la rifla—"
At the sight of the Cardinal the Count of Plouernel ran to the door, and repeatedly and effusively embracing his uncle, gently pushed him back into the salon from which he came. The valet, like the experienced menial that he was, discreetly shut the door of the boudoir upon his master, and drew the bolt.
CHAPTER V.
CARDINAL AND COUNT.
Cardinal Plouernel was a man of sixty-five years of age, lean, lank and leathery of skin. Except for the difference in age, he was possessed of the identical type of face as his nephew. His long neck, bald head, large and crooked nose like the beak of a bird of prey, and wide-set, round and penetrating eyes, imparted to his physiognomy, if analyzed and the high grade of intelligence that they denoted left out of consideration, a singular resemblance to that of a vulture.
To sum up, the priest, if clad in his red robes of Prince of the Church, could not choose but present a fear-inspiring aspect. On a visit to his nephew, he was clad simply in a long black coat, strictly buttoned up to his throat.