“Courage, my pretty pair! Courage! It strikes me that after so short a walk in the regions of Romance you can scarcely have followed all the windings of the stream of Sentiment, but that you must have taken a short-cut to reach the village of Kisses so quickly.”
Our readers have doubtless recognized the lieutenant, who so cordially admired Mademoiselle de Scudéry. Roused from his reading of “Clelia” by the midnight bell, which the two lovers had failed to hear, he started on his nightly rounds. As he passed the end of the eastern corridor, he caught a few words, and saw what seemed two ghosts moving in the gallery by the light of the moon. Being naturally bold and curious, he hid his lantern under his cloak, and advanced on tiptoe to the two phantoms, so disagreeably awakened from their ecstasy by his sudden burst of laughter.
Ethel made a movement to escape from Ordener; then, returning to his side as if instinctively, and to ask his protection, she hid her burning blushes on her lover’s breast.
He raised his head with all the dignity of a king.
“Woe,” said he, “woe to him who has frightened and distressed you, Ethel!”
“Yes, indeed,” said the lieutenant; “woe befall me if I am so unfortunate as to alarm so sensitive a lady!”
“Sir Lieutenant,” haughtily exclaimed Ordener, “I command you to be silent!”
“Sir Insolent,” replied the officer, “I command you to be silent!”
“Do you hear me?” returned Ordener in tones of thunder. “Buy pardon by your silence.”
“Tibi tua,” responded the lieutenant; “take your own advice,—buy pardon by your silence!”