"Yes, I love you, Basil—oh, I do love you! But in what can our passion end, but destruction and despair?"
CHAPTER VIII.
I BECOME A SOUBRETTE.
Amid all this, we were somewhat flurried, when, one morning in August, Madame de Bourgneuf unexpectedly drove up the long avenue to the gate of the chateau, in her old-fashioned carriage, which resembled a huge game-pie, or an antique tea-caddy on wheels, and brought tidings that the coast, from the Isle d'Ouessant to Ostend, was more than ever closely watched, as another descent of those insolent heretics, the English, was expected, for the express and envious purpose of demolishing the elegant fortifications erected by Marshal Vauban at Cherbourg, and burning his Most Christian Majesty's fleet, then ignobly blocked up in Brest by the squadrons of Lord Anson, Sir Edward Hawke, and Commodore Howe, who, as an additional insult to France, carried brooms at their mastheads, in token that they swept the sea!
From the Governor of Brittany she had obtained all this intelligence at St. Malo, and I immediately received it from Angelique, who, being somewhat addicted to waggery and mischief, informed me in a whisper, that "although madame, our aunt, had resided so long at St. Malo, ostensibly to pay her devotions at the famous shrine of the cathedral, it was more probably because the Duc d'Aiguillon had appointed as Governor and Commandant of St. Malo, the old Comte de Boisguiller—father of the chevalier—who, thirty years before, had been madame's most devoted though unsuccessful lover: and now as both were free, she was not without hope of kindling his passion again—hence the old lady's devotion to the blessed bones of St. Malo; but (added the soubrette, in the words of Jean Jacques Rousseau) who ever heard of a pair of grey-haired lovers sighing for each other?"
Now, what the deuce was to be done with me?
Madame was very strict about her domestics, and had rather austere views on the subject of men in general and lovers in particular (M. le Commandant excepted), yet, added Angelique, she always prefers as a spiritual adviser the handsome young Abbé St. Servand to old Père Celestine, of St. Solidore.
Terrified by the prospect of immediate discovery, of my ignominious expulsion, perhaps punishment, poor Jacqueline became quite paralysed, but her spirited abigail rose superior to the occasion, and resolved that a more complete disguise, and an entirely new plan of operations were at once necessary; so she insisted that I should become, like herself, a soubrette in the household.
Her clever little fingers—for she was neat and ready handed as all Frenchwomen are—soon prepared a dress of her own for me, by letting out a tuck or two in the skirts, altering the body and so forth. Then she proceeded at once to have me attired, a feat I could never have performed for myself.
She laced me up in a pair of her own stays, a merciless process, which nearly suffocated me, and certainly caused a determination of blood to the head; "but it was absolutely necessary," as she stated, "that I should have a figure;" adding, as she fastened the lace, "in time I shall make you quite pretty, monsieur, and then, if Boisguiller's hussars come this way we shall be rivals for the handsome sub-brigadier."