"Oh! Sire, Your Majesty may be assured that for my part I shall know how to hold my tongue; but my enemy the Countess, I feel convinced she has already boasted of her exploit to all her most intimate friends, and to-morrow all the Court will be in the secret . . . Oh God! oh God! what an unhappy woman I am,"and the fair Marquise hid her face in her hands, at the imminent risk of washing away the rouge with her tears.
"Be comforted. Marquise," said the King soothingly; "the Court could not find a prettier souffre-doulerr than you. If they talk about the thing, it is only because they are sorry to have missed the sight, just as the gods did in Olympus once à propos of the same little mishap befalling Psyche. I could mention some of our fine ladies who could not find the same consolation so easily as you. You, Marquise, have nothing to regret in what happened,"
The Marquise curtsied and blushed more furiously still, if such a thing were possible. The King gazed entranced at her scarlet cheeks and becoming tears.
"Now then," he went on, " go back to your room and dry those pretty eyes. To-night at the tables we will arrange the whole matter, I pledge you my word," — and with the gallantry and grace that marked his blood, the King conducted the young Marquise back to the door, whence she had to make her way through the crowd of staring, wondering, inquisitive courtiers. The Due d'Ayen, captain of the King's Bodyguard, stepped up to the Monarch and bowing silently before him, awaited His Majesty's commands.
"To mass, Duke, to mass,—now I have done my part as Father Confessor," ordered the Sovereign.
"So charming a penitent can have committed none but charming faults, Sire."
"Alas! poor child, 'tis not her own sins she expiates," observed the King, as he strode down the Great Gallery on his way to the Chapel Royal. The Duc d'Ayen followed his master, keeping one step in the rear,—near enough to hear and answer questions, but without actually walking side by side with the Sovereign, according to the rules of etiquette.
"A man would be too happy to be her accomplice, even in a crime. Sire."
"Her sin is really the Countess's."
"Oh! the King knows what to think in that quarter."
"Doubtless they caluminate the good Countess. She is extravagant, sometimes even, as on the present occasion, a perfect madcap, and I mean to take her to task about it, but she has an excellent heart. Say what ill they like of her, I shall not believe a word. Lord! I know very well I am not her first lover, and that in her good graces I succeeded Radix de Sainte-Foy."
"Yes, Sire," retorted the Duke, with the spice of malice concealed under the most urbane manner that was characteristic of the man, "as Your Majesty succeeded Pharamond,—after an interval."
The King, for all his wit, was no match for so hard a hitter, if he confined himself to mere repartee. He felt the stab, but pretended not to see the point. He hastened to accost a Chevalier of Saint Louis whom he happened to see as he passed. Louis XV. was good-natured and condescending, permitting a great deal of licence to his intimates, and provided he was amused, caring little about anything else. The Duc d'Ayen in particular was privileged to say whatever came to the tip of his tongue. Madame du Barry, all powerful as she was, never dreamt of combating his influence; his name, his position, his wit raised him above attack. During mass the King's thoughts often wandered to the tempest this new escapade of Madame du Barry's would raise, if it were to reach the Dauphin's ears. That Prince had indeed only the day before spoken his mind pretty freely to the Countess, who in spite of his wishes had pushed her nephew the Vicomte du Barry into an equerry's post in his household.
"Don't let him come near me," the Dauphin had declared, "or I shall order my people to turn him out."
Obviously this state of mind did not promise much complaisance towards the coarse practical joke the Countess had indulged in. Louis XV. accordingly left the Chapel Royal in a state of no small embarrassment. Before proceeding to the council chamber, he paid a visit to the Dauphine, whom he found superbly dressed and wearing in her hair a diamond spray beautifully mounted.
