He started away, but his cousin darted after him and caught him by the arm. "See here, my friend, you would better let me accompany you to your room. You must not make a scene. I cannot imagine how you—"
Before Henri finished Claude broke into a laugh. "Mordi, Henri, didst think me mad? I am a trifle excited. I am weary from the hunt—what you will. I am going to retire. Do not disturb me to-night. See, there is Mlle. d'Argenson regarding me. Let me go at once. There. Good-night!"
After these words the Marquis paused more contentedly, and saw his cousin leave the room, going in the direction of the grand staircase. On his way Claude passed the King, who was with Mme. de Jarnac, and the Duchess, still with de Gêvres. He left the second salon behind and entered an antechamber opening upon the central hall. Here, quite alone, side by side in the shadow of a hanging, were Victorine de Coigny and François de Bernis. The Abbé was toying with her fan, and laughingly answering her animated questions and observations. De Mailly took mental note of her face as he bowed in passing. Never had he seen it so absolutely free from discontent or that little look of fretful weariness that neither Henri nor de Coigny himself had ever been able to dispel. Now Claude had left them behind, and the staircase was before him. Ascending rapidly, he passed along the corridor above to the old apartments of de Maintenon. He knocked, was admitted without delay, and conducted, by Antoinette, into the inner room.
"Monsieur le Comte will wait here. He is early," she said, as she slipped away.
In the centre of the room in which he was left stood a round table. To this Claude drew a chair, seated himself, and then, obeying an impulse, leaned forward on the mahogany and laid his head upon his arms. Minutes passed, and he distinguished them neither from seconds nor from hours. After a time the maid once more went through the room. There was the murmur of a phrase or two spoken in the antechamber, a door softly opened, the delicate swish of satin, and then Claude was upon one knee at the feet of his cousin of Châteauroux.
She raised him up and smiled slowly into his brilliant eyes. "You are tired of waiting, and, indeed, I do not wonder. But I have not been able to effect my disappearance till now. 'Toinette will bring a pâtê and a glass of wine to us here, which we will take together, not as cousins, Claude, but—"
"As lovers," he murmured.
She shook her head at him. "As very good friends, my dear."
"Ah, no—Anne, no! Surely you could not think when you had granted me so much—so much as this—that I would not dare more—would not risk all, at last—"
"Chut! Stop, Claude! Why, would you finish our colloquy in a word? We have much time before us. To hurry is ungraceful."