“And yet it happens sometimes.”
“But not this time, unfortunately. The Russian legation has just received a despatch from St. Petersburg dated the twenty-sixth.”
“So we have just heard. It came in an incredibly short time. I fear ours will not do as well. And yet the French embassy at St. Petersburg is not often caught napping.”
Some one rang furiously. A hussar opened the door and made a sign to the vicomte, who sprang forward.
“The courier!” he exclaimed. “Bravo! Vive l'ambassadeur! To be only one hour behind the Russian courier is wonderful! Here, mon cher, are some cigars. Take the arm-chair and wait till I return. I shall soon be back, and will bring you the news.”
Clement threw himself into the arm-chair, lit a cigar, took up a newspaper, and patiently awaited the young attaché's return beside a good fire, which, without prejudice to the large stove at one end of the room, did not give out too much heat at this rigorous season. At the end of an hour, however, he was beginning to feel he was losing his time, when the Vicomte de Noisy reappeared with his hands full of letters, which he threw on the table.
“There,” he said. “To decipher and read these is not all: they are to be answered, and I do not know [pg 160] when I shall be able to leave the chancellerie.”
“Would it be indiscreet for you to tell me the nature of your despatches?”
“By no means. We have good news. It is all over. The struggle was severe, but short. The new emperor conducted admirably. The regiments in revolt have returned to their duty, all the leaders of the insurrection have been taken. The only serious thing is that among the latter are several belonging to the noblesse, and a great many gentlemen of social standing are compromised. This interests me more than anything else, because I was connected with the embassy at St. Petersburg before I came here, and know them all.”
“Have they given any of the leader's names?”