“Go on!” M. de Lambert exclaimed impatiently; “have you no tongue, that you cannot get through so simple a speech? Let us hear all.”
Pierrot was desperate, and he straightened himself and told the rest without a pause, his expression stolid.
“It is reported that the czar has formally declared his intention of being married to Mademoiselle Zotof within the month; and although this is not publicly announced, the court officials are preparing for the change.”
M. de Lambert’s face flushed darkly, and he leaned forward in his chair, listening eagerly to the speaker; but even at the end he uttered not a word, but I saw his brown eyes flash with resolution.
“Is there anything more?” he asked sharply after the pause, searching his informant’s face.
Pierrot’s glance sank to the floor, and he shifted his position uneasily; I knew that the last was the most difficult to tell.
“It is said, monsieur,” he replied in a low tone, “that Mademoiselle Zotof has signified her willingness to be a—to obey the czar.”
M. de Lambert sprang from his chair with a fierce exclamation. “It is a lie!” he cried bitterly, “a worthless, miserable lie!”
I checked him with a gesture; then, addressing my equerry,—
“That is all,” I said quietly, meaning that he could go; and he availed himself of the opportunity with alacrity, only too glad to escape the responsibility of giving unpleasant information. Meanwhile M. de Lambert was walking about the room like one possessed.