Count Hannibal

"It is from a lady," he admitted. "But a bit of badinage, I assure you,

nothing more!"

"Understood!" M. de Nancay murmured politely. "I congratulate you."

"But--"

"I say I congratulate you!"

"But it is nothing."

"Oh, I understand. And see, the King is about to rise. Go forward,

Monsieur," he continued benevolently. "A young man should show himself.

Besides, his Majesty likes you well," he added, with a leer. He had an

unpleasant sense of humour, had his Majesty's Captain of the Guard; and

this evening somewhat more than ordinary on which to exercise it.

Tignonville held too good an opinion of himself to suspect the other of

badinage; and thus encouraged, he pushed his way to the front of the

circle. During his absence with his betrothed, the crowd in the Chamber

had grown thin, the candles had burned an inch shorter in the sconces.

But though many who had been there had left, the more select remained,

and the King's return to his seat had given the company a fillip. An air

of feverish gaiety, common in the unhealthy life of the Court, prevailed.

At a table abreast of the King, Montpensier and Marshal Cosse were dicing

and disputing, with now a yell of glee, and now an oath, that betrayed

which way fortune inclined. At the back of the King's chair, Chicot, his

gentleman-jester, hung over Charles's shoulder, now scanning his cards,

and now making hideous faces that threw the on-lookers into fits of

laughter. Farther up the Chamber, at the end of the alcove, Marshal

Tavannes--our Hannibal's brother--occupied a low stool, which was set

opposite the open door of the closet. Through this doorway a slender

foot, silk-clad, shot now and again into sight; it came, it vanished, it

came again, the gallant Marshal striving at each appearance to rob it of

its slipper, a dainty jewelled thing of crimson velvet. He failed

thrice, a peal of laughter greeting each failure. At the fourth essay,

he upset his stool and fell to the floor, but held the slipper. And not

the slipper only, but the foot. Amid a flutter of silken skirts and

dainty laces--while the hidden beauty shrilly protested--he dragged first

the ankle, and then a shapely leg into sight. The circle applauded; the

lady, feeling herself still drawn on, screamed loudly and more loudly.

All save the King and his opponent turned to look. And then the sport

came to a sudden end. A sinewy hand appeared, interposed, released; for

an instant the dark, handsome face of Guise looked through the doorway.

It was gone as soon as seen; it was there a second only. But more than

one recognised it, and wondered. For was not the young Duke in evil

odour with the King by reason of the attack on the Admiral? And had he

not been chased from Paris only that morning and forbidden to return?