Maître Bilot, having finished his little performance, was about to withdraw, when a significant glance from the duke made him pause respectfully on the threshold.
“Maître Bilot,” said he, “fetch a glass for yourself from the buffet there, and come and drink a bumper of this capital wine to my health.”
This command, for such it was in reality, was instantly obeyed, and after emptying his glass at a single draught, the well-pleased landlord stood, with one hand resting on the table and his eyes fixed on the duke, waiting to see, what was wanted of him.
“Have you many strangers in your house now?” asked Vallombreuse, “and who and what are they?” Bilot was about to reply, but the young duke interrupted him, and continued, “But what’s the use of beating about the bush with such a wily old miscreant as you are, Maître Bilot? Who is the lady that has the room with a window, the third one from the corner, looking into my garden? Answer to the point, and you shall have a gold piece for every syllable.”
“Under those conditions,” said Bilot, with a broad grin, “one must be very virtuous indeed to make use of the laconic style so highly esteemed by the ancients. However, as I am devoted to your lordship, I will answer in a single word—Isabelle.”
“Isabelle! a charming and romantic name. But do not confine yourself to such Lacedaemonian brevity, Maître Bilot; be prolix! and relate to me, minutely, everything that you know about the lovely Isabelle.”
“I am proud and happy to obey your lordship’s commands,” the worthy landlord answered, with a low bow; “my cellar, my kitchen, my tongue and myself are all at your lordship’s disposition. Isabelle is an actress, belonging to the celebrated troupe of Seignior Hérode, stopping at present at the Armes de France.”
“An actress!” exclaimed the young duke, with an air of disappointment. “I should have taken her for a lady of rank, from her quiet, dignified mien, or at least a well-bred bourgeoise, rather than a member of a band of strolling players.”
“Yes, your lordship is right; any one might think so, for her manners and appearance are very lady-like, and she has an untarnished reputation, despite the difficulties of her position. No one understands better how to keep all the gallants that hover about her at a respectful distance; she treats these would-be suitors for her favour with a cold, reserved, yet perfect politeness that there is no getting over.”
“What you say pleases me,” interrupted Vallombreuse, “for there is nothing I so thoroughly despise as a fortress that is ready to capitulate before the first assault has been made.”