My heart swelled as the Marquis spoke. This handsome young noble was then in his thirtieth year. George, Lord Gordon, was styled marquis in France, being eldest son and heir-apparent of that Marquis of Huntly, who was Lieutenant of the North and commander of the insurgent Scottish Catholics who defeated the king's troops at the battle of Benrinnes.
'You have come at a fortunate time, sir. A war with Lorraine and the vaunting empire is now in every man's mouth; and I shall be glad to rally round king Louis every Scottish gentleman who may be useful to his cause. His ministers have already drawn up the plan of the campaign at the Louvre.'
'Indeed, ma foi! they have lost no time,' said the Countess, fanning herself vehemently.
'The frontiers of Lorraine and Alsace are all as well known to us as the Boulevardes.'
The attendant of the Countess, who listened intently to all that passed, trembled very perceptibly at these words, and I could perceive that when the Countess glanced at her, she blushed to the temples.
'When we unfurl the oriflamme beyond the Rhine,' resumed the Marquis, clanking his steel spurs; 'ma foi! madame, but we shall make the kettle-drums boil, ere we run short of provant.'
A cloud crossed the beautiful face of Clara d'Amboise, but a smile chased it away.
'You forget, Marquis,' said she, 'that my mother was a lady of Lorraine; and to speak thus in my boudoir is merely to imitate Rodomont in the old romance. He was ever noisy and furious.'
The Marquis laughed, showing teeth as white as her own under a moustache as dark as her eyebrows; and he replied,—
'Pardon me, madame; but while in your presence in future, I shall be dumb on this subject, and every other you dislike—ay! dumb as—'