“The Marquis de Bruyères!” said the duke, surprised, “have I any quarrel with him? I don’t recollect a difference between us ever; and besides, it’s an age since I’ve seen him. Perhaps he imagines that I want to steal his dear Zerbine’s heart away from him; lovers are always fancying that everybody else is enamoured of their own particular favourites. Here, Picard, give me my dressing-gown, and draw those curtains round the bed, so as to hide its disorder; make haste about it, do you hear? we must not keep the worthy marquis waiting another minute.” Picard bustled about, and brought to his master a magnificent dressing-gown-made, after the Venetian fashion, of rich stuff, with arabesques of black velvet on a gold ground—which he slipped on, and tied round the waist with a superb cord and tassels; then, seating himself in an easychair, told Picard to admit his early visitor. “Good morning, my dear marquis,” said the young duke smilingly, half rising to salute his guest as he entered. “I am very glad to see you, whatever your errand may be. Picard, a chair for his lordship! Excuse me, I pray you, for receiving you so unceremoniously here in my bedroom, which is still in disorder, and do not look upon it as a lack of civility, but rather as a mark of my regard for you. Picard said that you wished to see me immediately.” “I must beg you to pardon _me_, my dear duke,” the marquis hastened to reply, “for insisting so strenuously upon disturbing your repose, and cutting short perhaps some delicious dream; but I am charged to see you upon a mission, which, among gentlemen, will not brook delay.” “You excite my curiosity to the highest degree,” said Vallombreuse, “and I cannot even imagine what this urgent business may be about.” “I suppose it is not unlikely, my lord,” rejoined the marquis, “that you have forgotten certain occurrences that took place last evening. Such trifling matters are not apt to make a very deep impression, so with your permission I will recall them to your mind. In the so-called green-room, down at the tennis-court, you deigned to honour with your particular notice a young person, Isabelle by name, and with a playfulness that I, for my part, do not consider criminal, you endeavoured to place an _assassine_ for her, just above her white bosom, complimenting her upon its fairness as you did so. This proceeding, which I do not criticise, greatly shocked and incensed a certain actor standing by, called Captain Fracasse, who rushed forward and seized your arm.” “Marquis, you are the most faithful and conscientious of historiographers,” interrupted Vallombreuse. “That is all true, every word of it, and to finish the narrative I will add that I promised the rascal, who was as insolent as a noble, a sound thrashing at the hands of my lackeys; the most appropriate chastisement I could think of, for a low fellow of that sort.”