Overjoyed to display the resources of his imagination, Raymond ran to the clock, raised with startling rapidity the globe that covered it, moved back the hands, and set the regulator so far toward slow that, from the way in which he went about it, I concluded it would not be midnight for two hours. Our attention was diverted by Monsieur de Grandmaison’s voice, which announced the arrival of her whom all the guests awaited, but how much less impatiently than myself!
All eyes were turned toward the door by which she was to enter; I alone stood aside, in such a position that she would not see me at once. We heard the rustling of her gown, but at that moment there was a loud report in the room; Raymond had broken the mainspring of the clock; and to cover up his stupidity, he hurried away from the fireplace and ran to meet the beauty who was to be presented to us.
She appeared at last, escorted by Monsieur de Grandmaison and by Raymond, who had taken possession of her other hand and was already pouring forth all the pretty things he was capable of saying. I saw her, and my heart beat more violently, my chest swelled. That was the last time that her presence ever produced any effect on me.
She was magnificently dressed: an emerald necklace gleamed on her breast, a very handsome comb and long earrings added to the splendor of her costume. She entered the room with downcast eyes, assuming a modest air almost exactly like that which deceived me the first time I saw her. That woman was able to do whatever she chose with her face.
“Now,” thought I, “let us see how she will endure a sight of me.”
She raised her eyes to the company at last; instantly a concert of praise and compliments burst forth. She was in truth very fair to look upon, and the gentlemen vied with one another in their efforts to find words enthusiastic enough to depict their ecstasy and enchantment. How happy she was at that moment! there was a flush on her brow, but it was a flush of pleasure, of pride, not of modesty.
“But where’s my friend?” cried Raymond, looking about for me. He spied me in the corner from which I was observing the scene, ran to me, seized my hand, and dragged me toward Caroline.
“Come on,” he said; “come, I say, and see the Three Graces! She’s Hebe, she’s Venus, she’s Psyche, she’s——”
Raymond was interrupted by a cry from Caroline. She glanced at me as I began to pay my respects to her, congratulating Monsieur de Grandmaison. She turned pale, stammered, tried to recover herself; but the shock was too sharp; she tottered, and fell upon her latest adorer. He, being then occupied in responding to his friends’ congratulations, received the young woman’s weight as he was about to take a pinch of snuff, to help him to make some witty response. The poor man was not strong enough to resist that unexpected blow; his left leg was always out of line, and Caroline’s weight causing the right one to bend, Monsieur de Grandmaison fell heavily, trying to grasp what was nearest him, which happened to be Monsieur Rocambolle’s thigh. He clung to that, which he supposed to be an integral part of the person, but his hand grasped nothing but the cotton wool with which the old libertine stuffed his breeches in order to improve his shape. The broadcloth split and tore, and Monsieur Rocambolle’s fictitious thigh remained in Monsieur de Grandmaison’s hand.
While Monsieur Rocambolle angrily reclaimed his cotton posterior, while the toothless youth threw himself upon a couch, laughing like a maniac, while Zamorin looked to see if the supper were growing cold, and while milord gazed from one to another of the company with eyes that seemed to be starting from his head, Raymond, wishing to repair the damage unassisted, rushed to the table in search of something to give the fainting woman. As he put out his hand for a carafe, he overturned a decanter of madeira, also a candelabrum, the candles in which fell upon a fromage glacé and went out. The decanter fell on Monsieur de Grandmaison’s face, who swore that his nose was broken; while Zamorin, seeing the havoc Raymond was making on the supper table, called loudly for help. The servants hastened to the spot, but their presence served only to increase the confusion. Caroline was still unconscious, or pretended to be in order to conceal her embarrassment; Monsieur de Grandmaison continued to curse, Monsieur Rocambolle to shout, Zamorin to lament, and the young man to laugh; the Englishman tried to put a bottle or two of champagne in a safe place; and Raymond, in attempting to assist the young woman, to raise Grandmaison, and to restore order, overturned furniture, smashed bottles and plates, sent a chicken in one man’s face, a pie into another’s lap, and ended by falling upon a small table laden with liqueurs and brandied fruits.