"No," returned Wharton, "he seems very well engaged; and I am not ambitious of the acquaintance."
Louis was startled at these words; but recollecting the Duke's situation with the Bavarian faction; and the risks he had already run, between its revenge and his friend's safety; he soon comprehended that prudence had suggested this apparent indifference.
The dance began; and in its exhilarating maze, of motion, music, and sparkling beauty, Louis found all that bouyancy of spirits return, with which he used to animate the smaller, but not less festive circles of his native land. The ethereal grace of his movements attracted admiration in a country where the graces of dancing are a science; and the Electress, again turning to Wharton, who had accompanied her to the flowery lists of the waltzers, desired him to observe the extraordinary elegance of the Anglo-Spaniard. Wharton saw that several of the young grandees were standing near, and observed one of them cast a disdainful glance on the Electress, when she made the remark. Princess de Waradin was also a spectatress; and while her eye complacently followed the airy flight of her daughter on the sustaining arm of Louis, she took up the Electress's observation, and replied, "there is not so fine a dancer in the circle, as the Marquis de Montemar?"
"Because he happens to have the best figure in the circle," returned Wharton, "and a well-made man cannot be awkward if he would."
The Electress smiled, and whispered the Duke; "you must get him amongst us!"
"Crown me for Actæon, when I do!"
Wharton did not require an interpreter to the thickening clouds on the brow of the young Spaniard, who, muttering something to his companions, their looks suddenly reflected his, and they all turned abruptly and haughtily from the ring. The Electress drew close to the garlands, which composed it; and ordering a chair to be placed there, sat down, and conversed at her ease with the groupe around. Louis's eyes often glanced towards the animated Duke. But his favour with Her Highness was too visible, to allow surprise that he did not give attention to any one else. Indeed, he appeared as careless of remark, as he seemed pleased with his situation, and hovered near her with the familiarity of perfect confidence. Her circle of ladies courted his smiles, as the guarantee of her's; and he trifled, and talked with them all, as his humour dictated. But in the midst of this gallant badinage, the men regarded him as something more than the gay Cicisbeo, who had followed the illustrious mourner from her widowed pilgrimage through Italy. They were aware of his political genius; that the lap of beauty could not lull it to repose; and with less surprise than wonder, they contemplated certain changes in the mutual relations of states, which they knew must have arisen from him; but when or how his man uvres were devised and executed, they could not guess by observation on himself. For in all situations he seemed equally open and disengaged.
Ripperda passed behind the Bavarian party, surrounded by the foreign ambassadors. The Electress was mortified at the sight:—"Behold the flatterers!" cried she, to her gay companion.
"Dogs will worship the moon!" answered the Duke, carelessly: "and their hymn is desperate howling."
Without farther thought of what covered the polished brow of his mistress with heavy frowns, he turned to rally one of the young ladies of honour, for having refused to dance. The Bavarian almoner stood near. He was the only person, excepting the Electress, who knew that the late rupture between France and Spain was the work of Wharton. Marvelling within himself at the volatility of the man, who had so circumvented the gravest heads; and at the jocund indifference with which he beheld the triumph of his political adversary; the worthy ecclesiastic, with a half-reproaching smile, touched his arm.—"I believe, Duke," said he, "it is all one to you, whether you fire your own, or another's territories; from very gaieté de c ur, as either burn, you play!"