Armed with this noble resolution, Messire Barbagallo, who dared not approach the princess's circle himself, tried to attract Michel's attention from a distance by making innumerable signs, of which the young man remained utterly unconscious. Thereupon the majordomo, seeing that the contra-dance was nearly at an end, and that the princess could not fail to see young Lavoratori, who had planted himself so audaciously in her path, determined to accomplish his purpose by a coup d'état. He glided among the spectators like a hunting-dog in a field of grain, and, gently passing his arm through the young man's, he tried to lead him aside without any noise or disturbance.
At that moment Michel had met the glance from the princess which he had been seeking and awaiting so long.
That glance had thrilled him like an electric shock, veiled though it was by instinctive prudence; and when he felt some one grasp his arm, without deigning to turn his head to ascertain with whom he had to do, he repelled with an energetic dig of the elbow the indiscreet hand that had touched him.
"What are you doing here, Master Michel?" said the indignant majordomo in his ear.
"What business is it of yours?" he replied, turning his back and shrugging his shoulders.
"You ought not to be here," replied Barbagallo, on the point of losing patience, but restraining himself sufficiently to speak in a low tone.
"It is all right for you to be here, I suppose!" replied Michel, glaring at him with eyes inflamed with wrath, hoping to get rid of him by intimidation.
But Barbagallo had a certain courage of his own; he would have submitted to be spat upon rather than fail in the smallest degree in what he conceived to be his duty.
"I am doing my duty," he said; "go and do yours. I am sorry to disturb you; but everyone must keep in his place. Oh! don't be insolent! Where is your card of admission? You haven't one, I know. If you are allowed to see the fête, it is only on condition that you look after the buffet or the lights, like your father; let us see, what were you told to do? Go and find the butler, and he will tell you what to do; and if he doesn't need you, go away, instead of staring ladies out of countenance."
Master Barbagallo continued to speak so low that nobody could hear him save Michel; but his wrathful eyes and his convulsive gestures were eloquent enough, and people were already beginning to look at them. Michel had fully determined to retire, for he knew that he had no way of resisting the order. The idea of striking an old man was most distasteful to him, and yet never before had the blood of the common people itched more fiercely in the hollow of his hand. He would have yielded smilingly to an impertinence couched in polite phraseology; but, not knowing what to do to rescue his dignity from that absurd attack, he felt as if he should die of rage and shame.