Another form at this moment passed before the marquis' mental vision, beside which the beauty actually before him paled, and slightly modified the lively admiration with which he regarded her.
“Well,” said he, after a moment's reflection, “I know one of these convicts for whom a woman—a young lady of about your age—is ready to give a still greater proof of devotion than the Princess ——, for she is not his wife. She is only—his betrothed, and wishes to marry him on purpose to share his fate.”
“That is something entirely original,” said Vera.
“To do that,” pursued Adelardi, “she has a double favor to obtain, and is coming to St. Petersburg for that purpose. She will be here to-morrow, or, at the latest, in a few days. I have been commissioned to solicit for her an audience of the empress. Can I do so through your instrumentality?”
“Certainly. All these requests pass through my hands, and none have been rejected. But this is really the most singular case that has occurred.” She drew her tablets and a pencil from her pocket. “The name of your protégée?” said she.
Adelardi hesitated an instant, then, noting a little anxiously the effect produced, said:
“Her name is—Fleurange d'Yves.” He was relieved to hear the maid of honor say, after carefully writing down the name:
“Fleurange! that is a very singular name, and one I never heard before. To-morrow,” continued she, rising, and returning the tablets to her pocket, “before noon you shall have a reply. Au revoir, Monsieur le Marquis.”
As she gave him her hand, she added in a low tone: “I thank you for all your information, and will endeavor to avail myself of it. If you see Count George, tell him—but no, tell him nothing. If by the merest chance I succeed, it will be time enough then to tell him what he owes to my efforts. If I do not—it will be better for him to remain ignorant of my failure.”
The Marquis Adelardi returned home greatly preoccupied, and absently took up two letters lying on the table. But after opening them, he successively read them with equal interest. First, he looked at one of the signatures: “Clement Dornthal? He is the cousin who accompanies the fair traveller. They have arrived, then.—Well, the end of the drama is approaching: we must all endeavor to play our parts with prudence. Mine is not the easiest!”