"You see, Albert," said the Chevalier, rising and grasping his hand as he came in, "you see what liberties I take, and what account I make of your friendship. Here I come, and order all sorts of viands without ceremony, simply because I have ridden hard and am desperately an hungred."
His countenance was frank and open, though not perhaps so cheerful in its expression as usual; his manner was free and unembarrassed, and seemed not as if any thing that had occurred at Poitiers would have the slightest tendency to diminish the friendship and intimacy that existed between him and the Count. Albert of Morseiul, however, could not feel exactly the same. He could not divest his mind of a vague feeling of jealous disquietude in regard to the confident intimacy which seemed to exist between the Chevalier d'Evran and Clémence de Marly. However hopeless might be his own love towards her--however much he might have taught himself that despair was in his case wisdom--however strong might be his resolutions to resist every temptation to seek her society any more, there was something painful to him that he could not overcome, in the idea of the Chevalier being constantly at her side; and although his regard and affection for his friend were not diminished, yet there was an unpleasant feeling at his heart when he saw him, which perhaps might make some difference in his manner.
"Many thanks for doing so, Louis," he answered, struggling hard against his own feelings, "many thanks for doing so. What news bring you from Poitiers?"
The Chevalier did not appear to feel any difference in the manner of his friend, and replied, "But little news, Albert, and that not good. I was but one day in Poitiers before I set off in haste. I found every thing in confusion and derangement. The states split into factions; the governor, the intendant, and the bishop, at open war with each other; cabals of the basest and blackest character going on in every quarter of the town; good Madame de Rouvré wishing her husband any thing but a governor; and Clémence de Marly looking pale, ill, and sorrowful. I stayed but a sufficient time," he continued, not giving the Count an opportunity to make any observations, "I stayed but a sufficient time to make myself thoroughly acquainted with all that was proceeding, and then set off at once for the purpose of proceeding to Paris with all speed. I came to spend two or three hours with you, Albert, at the most, for I must hurry on without delay. The King, you know, is my godfather, and I trust that my representation of what is taking place at Poitiers may do some good. If it do not, de Rouvré is ruined, and a most pitiful intrigue triumphant."
"I trust in Heaven that you may be successful," replied the Count; "but proceed with your supper, d'Evran."
"I will, I will," replied the Chevalier, "but will you let me give you one more proof of how much at home I can make myself in your house, by giving an order to your servants?"
"Most assuredly," replied the Count; "you have nothing to do but to speak."
"It is this, then," said the Chevalier; "you will be good enough, Master Jerome Riquet, to make all these worthy gentlemen who are assisting you to serve my supper march out of the room in single file. Now come, Master Riquet, do it in an officer-like way. You have seen service, I know."
Riquet seemed well pleased at the honourable task conferred upon him, and according to the Chevalier's direction made the servants troop out of the room one by one, he himself preparing to remain as a confidential person to serve the Count and his friend during the conversation which he doubted not was to ensue. The Chevalier, however, as soon as he saw himself obeyed so far, again raised his voice, saying,--
"Now, Master Riquet, you have executed the manœuvre so well, that it is a pity your men should be without their officer. You will be good enough to follow them."