We were still laughing at him when he suddenly exclaimed, "Ah, here is Lautrec. Tell me, is he not a show picture? I feel almost tempted to change sides, if only to deck myself out so gorgeously."
CHAPTER VII.
The Cardinal takes an Evening Walk.
D'Arçy's acquaintance was one of the petits maîtres, as Condé's followers were called, and it was easy to see that he prided himself immensely on his fine clothes. He was dressed in a coat of dark blue cloth covered with fine lace; his mantle was scarlet, and his silk stockings, ornamented with lace, were of the same colour. He wore a black hat turned up à la catalane, and adorned by an enormous black feather, and his gloves were of a soft, gray buckskin. His scabbard was picked out with various designs, and jewels shone in the hilt of the sword.
"Lautrec, my friend, come here!" cried D'Arçy. "Ma foi! what an interesting group! Raoul and I for the Duke; Lautrec for Condé, and M. de Lalande for Mazarin. We only want a friend of De Retz to complete the party!"
"What?" cried Lautrec, looking at me with a broad smile, "the hero of Scarron's poem? The youngster from the country who tricked De Retz? M. de Lalande, I am delighted to meet you!"
"We will go to Perret's, and Lautrec shall sing us the famous song which Scarron wrote on our attempt to abduct the Cardinal," cried D'Arçy.
"But," said I in surprise, "it is not possible that the affair is openly talked about?"
"Why not? It is of the past. Who cares for yesterday's thunderstorm, especially when it did no damage? We are all brothers now."