A Sheaf of BluebellsOrczy, Emmuska Orczy, Baroness
History
A Sheaf of Bluebells
Orczy, Emmuska Orczy, Baroness
France -- History -- Consulate and First Empire, 1799-1815 -- Fiction
"I don't want him to see me here."
"Stay where you are, man," commanded Madame imperiously, and Leroux,
whose sallow cheeks were the colour of ashes, muttered something between
his teeth and withdrew into a dark corner of the room. Then Madame
turned once more to old Matthieu.
"You did not think," she said, "of saying to M. de Maurel that I was
from home."
"Yes, I did," replied the man. "I told him you were away."
"And what did he say?"
"That he would wait until your return, and in the meanwhile would speak
with his overseer, Paul Leroux, who he believed was within."
There came a violent oath from Leroux, and Madame put a handkerchief up
to her lips which felt cracked and dry; and during the silence that
ensued there came echoing through the silent house the sound of a
footfall with a curious lilt in it--the unmistakable footsteps of a man
who is lame.
"Stand aside, Matthieu," said Madame, with as much dignity as she could
command, even though her voice sounded raucous and hoarse. "I will go
speak with M. de Maurel. Do you follow me into the hall, and you,
Leroux," she added, once more turning to the craven creature who made no
attempt to disguise his fears, "stay here!"
CHAPTER XVIII
THE WORD OF THE MASTER
I
De Maurel stood waiting for her in the pillared hall. In accordance with
the custom which he himself had established during his last visits to
Courson, he was in uniform without his sword and mantle. Madame la
Marquise had already fully recovered her self-possession; her short
progress across the hall restored to her the full measure of her
habitual _sang-froid_. With a well-schooled smile upon her lips she came
forward eagerly to greet him.
"Ah! my dear Ronnay," she said, as she extended a gracious hand to him,
"this is indeed a surprise--none the less joyous as it was so wholly
unexpected. Indeed, we here at La Frontenay had come to believe that you
had wholly forgotten us."
He bowed low over the gracious hand, and even touched the finger-tips
with his lips.
"You look more bronzed than ever, M. le Marechal," added Madame with an
arch smile, "and your numerous new dignities and the added gorgeousness
of your uniform will play sadder havoc than ever before in the hearts of
our impressionable young girls. You have come to pay me a long visit, I
hope. Come to my boudoir, my dear Ronnay, the room which your generosity
hath furnished with such lavish care for your old mother. We can talk
undisturbed there."
"Within a few moments, Madame," he said quietly, "I will be entirely at
your service. But, first of all, may I, with your gracious permission,
speak a few words with my overseer Leroux?"
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