THE SAVING OF LA TOUR
Jude, who had the instincts of a Spanish Dominican, kept the closest watch upon the judicial proceedings against the highwaymen. He was promptly at the Châtelet at the time of their brief and summary trial, and procuring a calèche, sped Versaillesward to retail the news to the Noailles household. Having done so with considerable éclat to her Excellency, he pictured to himself an entrancing dream—that of awaking a joyful sympathy between himself and Cyrène through this highly congratulatory matter. She would smile upon him so divinely, so highly applaud his zeal, and begin to compare him favourably with that new butterfly, Répentigny, whose day must thenceforth come to an end.
It was night before he discovered her whereabouts, for she was at a ball, accompanying the Maréchale de Noailles, chief lady of honour of the Queen. The Maréchale was just then occupying the suite of apartments allotted to her in the Palace, and there Jude waited impatiently until half-past three before the young widow arrived in her boudoir accompanied by her maid.
"You did not expect me here, Madame Baroness," he said.
"In truth I did not, sir," she replied with cold surprise.
"I am the bearer of good news to you."
"Indeed!"
"Madame was robbed last month at Fontainebleau."
"And you bring back my jewels, good Abbé?" She began already to seem more radiant to him than he had dreamed.
"Not that quite."