“Madame,” replied Count Saxe, “I do not lend him to you—I give him to you as long as you need him. He is the most valuable possession I have on earth; therefore you may measure my regard for you.”
They both rose—so did I—and Francezka turned 294 her cheek to Count Saxe, who kissed her reverently. Let those sneer at Count Saxe who will, about his Mademoiselle Verières, his Duchesse de Bouillon and the rest. I say no one respected a woman of honor more than Count Saxe. He was bewitched by Francezka’s beauty, tears and devotion, and he began to tell her of so many officers, supposed to be lost in war, who had returned, sometimes after long years, to their friends, that he fixed the idea in Francezka’s head, Gaston must return. I said to him afterward, privately, that Francezka’s determined belief that Gaston would be found would be unalterable after this conversation. Count Saxe looked a little disturbed, but striking his forehead, cried out:
“Babache, I swear I knew not half I was saying; I saw only distressed beauty, faithful and devoted, and I would have perjured my soul to comfort her!”
It was concluded, at this conference, that as soon as Philipsburg fell, I was to accompany Francezka and Madame Chambellan to Prince Eugene’s headquarters, and if necessary to Vienna, that the plan of looking for Gaston Cheverny in the Austrian prisons might be carried out.
We returned to our stations before Philipsburg, but I had several opportunities of seeing Francezka in the next few weeks. She posted large rewards for news of Gaston Cheverny, but not one single person appeared to claim them.
Philipsburg fell on the eighteenth of July. As soon as this was accomplished the campaign became perfunctory. In August, everything had simmered down, and actually the Crown Prince of Prussia, with some of the other too numerous princes in Prince Eugene’s army, 295 were given passports to visit the French camp. This young Crown Prince of Prussia, afterward known as Frederick the Great, was the same one who had so much admired Francezka at the camp of Radewitz, four years before. Count Saxe suggested that Francezka should see him, and ask, through him, the help of the Prussians in her search.
On the day of this visit, therefore, a beautiful August forenoon, after a whole mob of princes had been entertained by the Duc de Noailles and other officers of high rank, Count Saxe invited to his tent the Crown Prince of Prussia. This tent was of purple and white silk, and was very luxurious; but luxury did not prevent Count Saxe from being a soldier as hardy as those old Greeks, who furiously chased and fought their enemies over the windy plains of Troy.
I had seen the crown prince many times at Radewitz. He always bore on his countenance some indications of greatness: the clear, steel blue eye of him, the forehead of a man born a captain. But at Radewitz his old brute of a father had treated him worse than a dog. Like his friend, Voltaire, he had been caned more than once. Now, times were better with him; but no man ever submitted to have a cane laid on his back without bearing marks upon his character long after the marks on his skin had disappeared. When I was a private soldier I always carried around my neck a little bag which contained my few treasures, and one of these treasures was a bullet for the sergeant who should order a lash laid on me. No sergeant ever ordered this.
When the crown prince was seated in Count Saxe’s tent I went and fetched Francezka, who appeared with 296 Madame Chambellan as her dame de compagnie. Francezka was dressed in the Spanish fashion that day—the costume was black, and I think she felt a distaste for gay colors, and meanwhile, she would not assume mourning; so this Spanish mantilla, which she wore with a grace inherited from her Spanish mother, well became her. The crown prince received her amiably, recalled their previous acquaintance at Radewitz, and repeated Count Saxe’s compliments to Gaston Cheverny. At this, Francezka’s face, which was a little pale, grew red with gratified pride. She asked the crown prince’s assistance in publishing her rewards and making known Gaston’s disappearance—and he promised with a fine grace. He had excellent manners when he chose, particularly when he had been his own master long enough for the novelty to have abated. He told Count Saxe afterward that Francezka, without being the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, was the most interesting.
In all this time no word had come from Regnard Cheverny. Francezka commented bitterly on this, and it much amazed me, as I had never seen any lack of affection on either side between the brothers.