The small ceremony over, and the light of royal favor glittering in the candle-rays over the Count de Mailly's heart, his Majesty, with tender touch, took up the coveted gauntlet, put it inside his embroidered waistcoat, and, placing his hand on de Berryer's shoulder, bowed a good-night to the party and the Hôtel de Gêvres.
Immediately after the King left, the other participant in the struggle for a woman's gage also rose. Claude was tired. He had no mind to be assailed with the volley of epigrams, bons-mots, and various comments that he knew would soon begin to be discharged from the brains of his companions. Certainly, he should have considered the episode a happy one. Already, since that talk of esteem and good-will from the King, he could feel the change in attitude assumed towards him by de Gêvres and d'Epernon. But the sight of these figures wearied him now; and he suddenly longed for a solitude in which to face his rapidly growing regret that his cousin's glove had passed out of his possession.
"What, monsieur!" cried de Gêvres, when he rose, "you will not give me the chance to retrieve myself to-night?"
"Small hope for you with such luck as the Count's," returned d'Holbach. "When a man wins two points off a king, by how much may he defeat a duke? Reply, Richelieu. It is geometry."
Richelieu laughed. "I congratulate you, Monsieur le Comte," he said.
De Mailly bowed. Then, turning to the Marquis, he held out his hand. "Will you come, Henri, or must I beg shelter of Madame la Marquise alone?"
"I come, Claude. Good-night, and thanks for a most charming evening, and a comedy worthy of Grandval, messieurs."
"Thank thy sister for that," returned de Gêvres.
Claude made a general salute, and then, without further parley, accompanied his friend from the room and the house.
"My horse is still at the Procope," observed Claude at the door.