"How have I offended you?" asked Edmond with sympathy, "it almost appears as if I had: are you mortified by me? I do not know myself guilty in anything; what is it then in the name of all the saints?"
"That you are a man!" said Christine, while her pale cheeks glowed with the deepest crimson.
"Well! really," said Edmond, "this transgression is so new, that I know not how to answer. Is this the amiable Christine of Castelnau, who thus greets her friend, who"--
"Amiable!" cried she passionately--"what do you call thus, ye friends? the bad, the wretched, the worthless of this world, with which we cover our naked misery as with torn purple rags from the worn out, faded wardrobes of former times, when there were yet clothes, and ornament and men?--or has the world been always thus miserable?"--she threw the lute from her as if it terrified her. "This is also one of the deplorable customs, that we should warble and play, and make grimaces, though our hearts were to break, in case a particle of heart throb yet within us."
"You are ill," exclaimed Edmond, "so ill, that I shall run immediately to our friend Vila;" "Stop," said Christine, and while they were still disputing, an equipage quickly rattled up; all arose in the first room, it was the Marshal of Montrevel, who in his dress-uniform stepped lightly and gracefully out of the carriage and bounded up the stairs, and while the folding doors were thrown open, and the ladies and gentlemen in the room formed a respectful line, he greeted them all with the most polite condescension, "Good evening ladies," said he kindly, "I rejoice to see you all well; Captain, Mr. Counsellor, your servant; ah, my young friend," turning to Edmond, "you are here very often; but where is our amiable hostess?"
"She too is not far," said Christine, coming forward.
"And well?" asked the Marshal; "certainly this charming serenity, this grace, these divine talents, how could it be otherwise?--I hope ladies that you will not disturb yourselves; let us all sit down and play, or converse as best it may seem."
He laid aside his sword and plumed hat, and with obliging promptitude placed an armchair near the fire-place for the lady Christine; he took a footstool and sat on it at her feet, Edmond leaned over the back of her chair and the rest of the company resumed their play. "At your feet, loveliest of women," began the Marshal, "must I find again the peace and tranquillity, which deserted me to-day: yes, this day is one of the most unfortunate of my life!" "Have the Camisards penetrated into Nismes?" asked Christine.
"They will never do that," replied the Marshal smiling, "means have been taken to prevent it; these miserable men will soon have sung their last song. Yesterday they were as good as annihilated, and we should have given them the rout here near Nages, if treachery and wickedness had not, as usual, rendered our best efforts abortive."
"Certainly," said Edmond, "if the people were unanimous in their exertions to extirpate them, the best part would have been achieved."