"Horns of Panurge! Some of these broken gentlemen doubt my ability. Besides, I may learn something of the vicomte's strength. I wonder what it is: when I am out of his presence I dislike him; when he approaches me, my dislike melts in the air."
"Read me what you have written," resignedly.
"I have polished only the third stanza and the envoi. I will read these to you; and tell me where it lacks smoothness."
"Beatrice is vanished and with her her smiles;
Others shall kiss away Henriette's tears,
Others surrender to Marguerite's wiles:
Where is La Place with its musketeers?
Oh, but the days they shall lengthen to years
Ere I return o'er these pathless seas,
Carried wherever the Pilot steers!
And where are the belles of the balconies?
"Prince, where is the tavern's light that cheers?
Where is La Place with its musketeers,
Golden nights and the May-time breeze?
And where are the belles of the balconies?"
"That will do very well," was the Chevalier's comment. His thought was carried back, even as the poet's, to La Place Royale. "Read the whole of it, even if it be in the rough. It will divert me." And, listening, he watched his garments swinging to and fro from the hook, particularly the grey cloak. It held a strange fascination.
"Monsieur improves constantly," observed Breton, soberly.
Victor laughed, and began explaining the difficulty of constructing a ballade of double refrain, when a hand fell upon the door.
"Enter," called the Chevalier, listlessly.
The door opened and the vicomte came in. Great good nature beamed from his countenance. His strong white teeth displayed themselves in a smile.