The right wing of the petite maison in Rue de Bretonvilliers was brilliantly illuminated; from the courtyard one could hear the bursts of laughter of the guests who were still in the banquet hall, seated, or rather half reclining, like the Greeks, around a table laden with flowers, decanters full and empty, and the débris of a supper, the remnants of which would have made a royal feast for more than one family.
In an adjoining room, the portières of which were drawn aside, were card tables, surrounded by numerous lovers of games of chance. Some women were among them, and seemed not the least eager in the pursuit of luck and in contending against it.
Lastly, in the less brilliantly lighted rooms of the suite, away from the intrepid gamblers and banqueters, divers couples were seated on sofas, talking, if not of their love affairs, of their amorous adventures. Some fair ones sought, by dint of eloquent glances, to subdue hearts which had thus far resisted their charms, but which would naturally be more submissive after a sumptuous supper, and in an assemblage where pleasure was the only law that anyone chose to recognize.
The Marquis de Sénange, the Sire de Beausseilly, and the Chevalier de Monclair had remained undauntedly at table, talking and drinking, while their friends played cards or made love to the ladies.
"Do you know, messieurs, that this little house is a most delicious spot!" said Sénange, as he glanced about the banquet hall. "Nothing is lacking here; everything is refined, convenient, and decorated with perfect taste!"
"What I admire above all is the way in which the cellar is supplied. Vertudieu! messieurs, judging from our entertainment, there must be a profusion of everything here!"
"Just try, Monclair, not to get into such a state as on that night that we lay on the grass near the Pont-aux-Choux! Do you remember?"
"Yes, indeed—about two months ago.—Give me some of that malaga, Sénange.—Well, messeigneurs, just see what changes may take place in two months! Do you remember poor Léodgard's destitute plight at that time?"
"Pardieu! of course I remember it, as we played for his cloak, which I won from him!—But he has paid me more than its value since!"
"Who would have told us then that a few weeks later this same Léodgard would give us delicious suppers, in a charming house built for a farmer-general; that he would display as much elegance and splendor as his predecessor!"