At this moment the equerry looked up, and, seeing us at the window, would be detained no longer, but tearing himself away from Pierrot hurried across the court. On the instant M. de Lambert leaned out, and called to Pierrot to come up to us.
“We must have the news, monsieur,” he said, laughing. “I cannot let them keep that morsel for themselves.”
“You grow trifling,” I remarked with a smile.
“An invalid’s privilege,” he said. “My sick-room would have been dull indeed, but for the gossip they brought me.”
As we resumed our former seats, Pierrot came in and stood gravely awaiting our commands.
“The tidings, Pierrot,” M. de Lambert exclaimed lightly; “let us have the tidings.”
I had been observing Pierrot’s face, and read there a reluctance to speak which made me uneasy. He glanced at me now before he replied.
“It is but the gossip of the court officials, monsieur,” he said, addressing M. de Lambert, but watching me for a sign which I did not give. “It may be false.”
“It must be bad news, man,” M. de Lambert remarked quickly, “else you would not give it such a preface.”
“It is said,” Pierrot continued, despairing of help from me, “that his Majesty was closeted with M. Zotof, that M. Mentchikof will be dismissed, and Mademoiselle Shavronsky is to go to Novodevitchy, and—” He paused, stammering and looking again at me.