“Your promise,” muttered Bellegarde in his ear.
“Confound you, Bellegarde! You have introduced me into paradise, and now you drag me away just when the breath of heaven is warming me.” Don Juan looked broken-hearted at being obliged to leave, and cast the most loving glances towards Gabrielle and her handsome sisters.
“I opine we ought never to have come at all,” said Chicot, winking violently and looking at Gabrielle, who with downcast eyes evidently regretted the necessity of the Don’s departure.
“Mère de Dieu!” muttered the latter to Bellegarde, “you are too hard thus to bind me to my cursed promise.”
“Gabrielle,” said Bellegarde, drawing her aside, and speaking in a low voice, “one kiss ere I go. You are my beloved—my other self, the soul of my soul. Adieu! This has been a miserable meeting. You have grieved me, love; but perhaps it is my own fault. I ought to have come alone. That Spaniard is disgusting”—Gabrielle turned her head away—“But I will soon return. In the meantime, a caution in your ear. If this same Don Juan comes again during my absence to pay you a second visit, send him off I charge you, by the love I know you bear me. Give him his congé without ceremony; hold no parley, I entreat you; he is a sad good-for-nothing, and would come with no good intentions. I could tell you more. He is——, but next time you shall hear all. Till then, adieu!”
“I will obey you, Bellegarde,” replied Gabrielle somewhat coldly; “but the Spaniard seems to me an honest gentleman, and looks born to command.”
The whole party then proceeded to the courtyard, where the three horses were waiting.
“Adieu, most adorable Gabrielle!” cried the Spaniard, vaulting first into the saddle. “Would to heaven I had never set eyes on you, or that, having seen you, I might gaze to eternity on that heavenly face.”
“Well,” said Bellegarde gaily, for his spirits rose as he saw the Spaniard ready to depart, “you need only wait until peace be made, and then I will present you at Court, Don Juan, where Madame la Duchesse de Bellegarde, otherwise La Belle Gabrielle, will shine fairest of the fair.”
“You are not married yet, Duke, however,” rejoined the Spaniard, looking back, “and remember, you must first have his Majesty’s leave and licence—not always to be got. Ha, ha, my friend, I have you there!” laughed the Don. “Adieu, then, once more, most beautiful ladies, adieu to you all! Bellegarde, you have gained your bet.”