“At that rate,” said Madame de Rastignac, laughing, while Madame de l’Estorade was silent, disdaining to reply, “the political world must be peopled by none but scoundrels.”
“That is so, madame,—ask Lazarille”; and as he made this allusion to a famous stage joke, he laid his hand on the minister’s shoulder.
“My dear fellow,” said Rastignac, “I think your generalities are a little too particular.”
“No, no; but come,” returned Monsieur de Ronquerolles, “let us talk seriously. To my knowledge, this Monsieur de Sallenauve—that is the name I think he has taken in exchange for Dorlange, which he himself called theatrical—has done, within a short time, two fine actions. I, being present and assisting, saw him stand up to be killed by the Duc de Rhetore, on account of certain ill-sounding words said about a friend. Those words, in the first place, he could not help hearing; and having heard them it was, I will not say his duty, but his right to resent them.”
“Ah!” said Madame de Rastignac, “then it was he who fought that duel people said so much about?”
“Yes, madame, and I ought to say—for I understand such matters—that at the meeting he behaved with consummate bravery.”
To avoid the recital of the second fine action, Madame de l’Estorade, at the risk of impolitely cutting short a topic thus begun, rose, and made an almost imperceptible sign to her husband that she wished to go. But Monsieur de l’Estorade took advantage of its faintness to stay where he was.
Monsieur de Ronquerolles continued:—
“His other fine action was to throw himself in front of some runaway horses to save madame’s daughter from imminent death.”
All eyes turned on Madame de l’Estorade, who, this time, blushed deeply; but recovering speech, if only in order to seem composed, she said with feeling,—