I showed them at once to their rooms, which were agreeable but rather high up, overlooking that wonderful spiral staircase which is the glory of Chambord. I explained that I had placed them so high that they might not be disturbed by the noise and commotion which was pretty sure to be going on night and day in the lower part of the castle.
“Trouble not yourself about that, Babache,” cried Francezka, merrily; “Gaston and I are not in search 374 of quiet, but gaiety. Life was so dark for us for seven years that we want it to be as merry as we can make it now,” to which Gaston laughingly agreed.
I had caused a harpsichord to be placed in Francezka’s room. To this she ran, opening it and dashing into a rattling air upon it. Her eyes were sparkling, the color had come back into her cheeks—her whole air was one of feverish gaiety. She was then eight and twenty years of age, but I think I never saw a more girlish looking creature. The years that most young women spend in going to balls and routs and suppers, and spoiling their complexions with rouge, Francezka had spent in the solitude and pure air of the country. She had all the verve, the freshness, of one to whom the world is still new, and youth looked out of her shining eyes. It was as if the other Francezka were laid away with her black Spanish costumes, and this Francezka were the Francezka who had stormed all hearts on the lake of Uzmaiz and at the fêtes of Radewitz.
I could only remain with them a few minutes, as the coming of King Louis was imminent. Francezka, too, had to rehearse for the play to be given that night, so both of us were hurried, but Francezka took time to say to me:
“We must have one of our old friendly interviews soon, Babache. That must you arrange for, if you have to neglect not only the king, but Count Saxe himself.”
Two hours later the king, followed by a large suite, arrived. I was in command of the body-guard, and as such was presented to the king in the grand saloon, where all the great people were ranged to receive him. 375 Louis XV was as handsome as ever and, I thought, less wearied, for he loved to be with Count Saxe.
I reckoned Francezka to be easily the star of the ladies present, and there were some of the most beautiful women in France in that saloon of Chambord, their jewels blazing under the waxlights. Nor was Gaston Cheverny inconspicuous among the gentlemen. He had the grand air as much as Francezka, and his adventures made him an object of respectful curiosity. The king conversed with him some time during the evening, and afterward sent for Francezka. She acquitted herself so well that she made all the women hate her. Monsieur Voltaire, who was not much noticed by the king, said if virtue could be made the fashion Madame Cheverny would have accomplished it.
On that evening began a veritable tempest of pleasure at Chambord, for I can call it by no other name. I can not say I enjoyed it. First, we had extra pages of honor, thirty of them, and I had as soon have had thirty extra devils on my hands. They gave me twice the trouble that my whole battalion of Uhlans did. Then I had to arrange the entire business of the hunting—everything, in short, outside of the castle, and Beauvais had charge of everything inside of it. I seldom got to my camp bed, next Count Saxe’s room, before two o’clock in the morning, and I was at the stables every morning by daylight.
The first day’s diversion was a grand battue. The battue was a magnificent spectacle in the forest, and was not over until late in the afternoon. Then, on the return to the castle, was organized one of those wild romps which were the amusement of the court. The 376 gentlemen, in hunting dress, and winding their silver horns, chased the ladies through the vast spaces, the winding corridors, the crooked stairs of the castle, and when caught, the ladies forfeited a kiss, or a dozen kisses. The little devils of pages were the hounds. These, being acquainted with the multitude of turns and windings in the castle, ably assisted the cavaliers, and generally got a box on the ear for catching a lady, to which the pages responded by kisses on their own account. It was a very amusing sport, and would have been harmless if the ladies and gentlemen concerned in it had been angels. Francezka, to my surprise, took part in it, as in everything else, but being full of art and finesse, was never caught except by one person, the aged Marshal Duc de Noailles, who was brave and gallant at the age of eighty. Gaston Cheverny excelled at this wild and gallant sport, and the ladies vowed there was no escaping him.
On the first evening of the king’s arrival Francezka had a splendid triumph. Monsieur Voltaire gave Nanine in the theater of the castle, and Francezka was Nanine, somewhat to Madame du Châtelet’s disgust, I fancy. And for the after piece was The Tattler, with the greatest cast the world ever saw: Francezka as Hortensia, Monsieur Voltaire as Pasquin, and Count Saxe himself as Clitander.