“Madame,” he said in a low voice, “I esteem it an honor to accept your gift. In a manner I have regained my reputation. His Excellency your husband and his friend thought me a cowardly spy because I dreaded to die a shameful death; but I do not fear to die—as a brave man should.”
Zénaïde gave me a glance in which were mingled triumph and reproach.
“You have not only won our respect,” she replied, “but you have earned our gratitude, for we both love M. de Lambert. We do not forget such a service.”
“Madame, you are good,” the Swede said quietly; “and I will wear your ring always, to remind me of the nobler purposes of life.”
Kneeling down, he kissed the hem of her robe, and then, rising, left the house without another word.
“And you thought him a coward!” exclaimed Zénaïde, looking at me with a smile.
“He is not only a brave man, but a courtier, it seems, Madame de Brousson,” I replied dryly.
She laughed, looking down at her robe and flushing like a girl.
CHAPTER XI.
AN INTERCEPTED LETTER.
M. de Lambert’s wound, though not dangerous, was troublesome, and kept him confined to his room for some time; a fretful patient he was, trying my wife’s forbearance, although she was in full sympathy with his anxieties. There were no definite developments, but it was manifest that Catherine Shavronsky was at this time more or less neglected, while favors were showered upon the Zotofs, and mademoiselle’s name was on every lip. In the interval she appeared once at court, and was surrounded by a bevy of courtiers, and it occurred to me that perhaps her silence toward her lover was caused by a change of heart, that the splendors of a throne had dazzled her; but Zénaïde refused to believe it. She had an unshaken confidence in Najine’s loyalty, and fully appreciated the difficulties which beset the young girl. We endeavored to send her a message explaining M. de Lambert’s condition, but neither Zénaïde nor I believed that it ever reached her. Meanwhile Apraxin had disappeared. It would have been impossible to obtain any satisfaction in regard to the young villain, and I was more or less relieved at his departure. There was no doubt that his attack on M. Guillaume had been actuated entirely by jealousy, and that there was no deeper motive behind it, which diminished the chances of obtaining any redress.