XXIV

"You won a triumph for the Chapter," said the Vicar-General, smiling.

"Now, as to all this, be as secret as the tomb. We are nothing, we

have done nothing. If we were known to have meddled in election

matters, we should be eaten up alive by the Puritans of the Left--who

do worse--and blamed by some of our own party, who want everything.

Madame de Chavoncourt has no suspicion of my share in all this. I have

confided in no one but Madame de Watteville, whom we may trust as we

trust ourselves."

"I will bring the Duchess to you to be blessed!" cried Savarus.

After seeing out the old priest, Albert went to bed in the swaddling

clothes of power.

Next evening, as may well be supposed, by nine o'clock Madame la

Baronne de Watteville's rooms were crowded by the aristocracy of

Besancon in convocation extraordinary. They were discussing the

exceptional step of going to the poll, to oblige the daughter of the

Rupts. It was known that the former Master of Appeals, the secretary

of one of the most faithful ministers under the Elder Branch, was to

be presented that evening. Madame de Chavoncourt was there with her

second daughter Sidonie, exquisitely dressed, while her elder sister,

secure of her lover, had not indulged in any of the arts of the

toilet. In country towns these little things are remarked. The Abbe de

Grancey's fine and clever head was to be seen moving from group to

group, listening to everything, seeming to be apart from it all, but

uttering those incisive phrases which sum up a question and direct the

issue.

"If the Elder Branch were to return," said he to an old statesman of

seventy, "what politicians would they find?"--"Berryer, alone on his

bench, does not know which way to turn; if he had sixty votes, he

would often scotch the wheels of the Government and upset Ministries!"

--"The Duc de Fitz-James is to be nominated at Toulouse."--"You will

enable Monsieur de Watteville to win his lawsuit."--"If you vote for

Monsieur Savarus, the Republicans will vote with you rather than with

the Moderates!" etc., etc.

At nine o'clock Albert had not arrived. Madame de Watteville was

disposed to regard such delay as an impertinence.

"My dear Baroness," said Madame de Chavoncourt, "do not let such

serious issues turn on such a trifle. The varnish on his boots is not

dry--or a consultation, perhaps, detains Monsieur de Savarus."

Rosalie shot a side glance at Madame de Chavoncourt.

"She is very lenient to Monsieur de Savarus," she whispered to her

mother.

"You see," said the Baroness with a smile, "there is a question of a

marriage between Sidonie and Monsieur de Savarus."

Mademoiselle de Watteville hastily went to a window looking out over

the garden.

At ten o'clock Albert de Savarus had not yet appeared. The storm that

threatened now burst. Some of the gentlemen sat down to cards, finding

the thing intolerable. The Abbe de Grancey, who did not know what to

think, went to the window where Rosalie was hidden, and exclaimed

aloud in his amazement, "He must be dead!"

The Vicar-General stepped out into the garden, followed by Monsieur de

Watteville and his daughter, and they all three went up to the kiosk.

In Albert's rooms all was dark; not a light was to be seen.

"Jerome!" cried Rosalie, seeing the servant in the yard below. The

Abbe looked at her with astonishment. "Where in the world is your

master?" she asked the man, who came to the foot of the wall.

"Gone--in a post-chaise, mademoiselle."

"He is ruined!" exclaimed the Abbe de Grancey, "or he is happy!"

The joy of triumph was not so effectually concealed on Rosalie's face

that the Vicar-General could not detect it. He affected to see

nothing.

"What can this girl have had to do with this business?" he asked

himself.

They all three returned to the drawing-room, where Monsieur de

Watteville announced the strange, the extraordinary, the prodigious

news of the lawyer's departure, without any reason assigned for his

evasion. By half-past eleven only fifteen persons remained, among them

Madame de Chavoncourt and the Abbe de Godenars, another Vicar-General,

a man of about forty, who hoped for a bishopric, the two Chavoncourt

girls, and Monsieur de Vauchelles, the Abbe de Grancey, Rosalie,

Amedee de Soulas, and a retired magistrate, one of the most

influential members of the upper circle of Besancon, who had been very

eager for Albert's election. The Abbe de Grancey sat down by the

Baroness in such a position as to watch Rosalie, whose face, usually

pale, wore a feverish flush.

"What can have happened to Monsieur de Savarus?" said Madame de

Chavoncourt.

At this moment a servant in livery brought in a letter for the Abbe de

Grancey on a silver tray.

"Pray read it," said the Baroness.

The Vicar-General read the letter; he saw Rosalie suddenly turn as

white as her kerchief.

"She recognizes the writing," said he to himself, after glancing at

the girl over his spectacles. He folded up the letter, and calmly put

it in his pocket without a word. In three minutes he had met three

looks from Rosalie which were enough to make him guess everything.

"She is in love with Albert Savarus!" thought the Vicar-General.