'And I thank you, too,' added Pappenheim, with a courtier's sneering smile; 'I thank you for the jealous care you have of your sister's honour, believing, however, it would be all the greater were you both, as you are not, the children of one mother.'
'Coarse Austrian!' began the Prince, passionately, but suddenly moderating his tone, he said, 'M. le Comte, your sneer is alike insolent and unjust, and I repel it with the scorn it merits. Mademoiselle is the daughter of a former marriage, true, and my senior by a year or more, yet do I love her as my own life, more even than my father does, for all his hopes and pride are centred upon me, as his only heir. Beware, Count, how you approach this delicate subject again, for though pliant as a willow to Marie Louise, you may find me tough as the mountain oak to her intended husband.'
'Enough, monseigneur,' replied the Count, assuming his plumed hat, and retiring with repeated bows towards the door; 'I shall not renew this subject again, but at the same time crave leave to choose my own friends, and beg to be excused sitting at table with your new Scottish ally, with whom I here proclaim I shall neither make peace nor truce.'
'Neither will I,' added De Bitche, retiring also, and from the door, hurling his leather glove at me.
'Take back your glove, De Bitche,' said the Prince, snatching it from my hand, and tossing it along the corridor; 'and on peril of your life, fight in this matter without my knowledge.'
He closed the door after nis guests, and turning towards me, said, with a ruffled air,
'My poor M. Blane; these two irritable Counts mean you mischief. I saw it in their eyes, and De Bitche has the yellow orbs of a snake. Milles barbes! I wish that you were beyond our lines, among your own people, safely out of Lorraine, and in the French camp; for these two will leave no means untried to compass your destruction!'
With this comfortable assurance, I seated myself at table; and we filled our cups with wine.