Though she had been annoyed, even frightened by the n.o.bleman's ardent manner and words, she was now eager to defend him from Calvert's attack.

She knew him to be in the right, and the rising admiration for his quiet dignity and courage, which she could not repress, only added to her petulance and desire to be revenged on him. It is so with all women--they hate to be put in the wrong, even when the doing so means protection to themselves. And so it was wellnigh intolerable to the spoiled beauty, who had never been used to the lightest contradiction, that this calm young American should so openly show his disapproval of her.

"I will pa.s.s by your reproof of myself, Monsieur," she said at length, haughtily; her eyes flashing and a deep blush mantling her brow, "but I cannot consent to listen in silence to your condemnation of a personage whose talents and rank should protect him from your sarcasms."

"Rank, Madame!" burst out Mr. Calvert at these words. "I never knew before that morality or immorality, loyalty or treason, honor or dishonor had aught to do with rank! In our country 'tis not so. A king's word can make of the meanest scoundrel a duke, a marquis, but an honest man holds his rank by a power greater than any king's." He bent upon her such a compelling gaze that she was forced to turn and look at him.

Before Calvert's flashing eyes and manly, honest indignation her own anger died out and an unwilling admiration took its place. She blushed again deeply and bit her lips. This young American, with his n.o.ble face, his simplicity of manner and democratic scorn of her rank and pretensions, had not only accused, but silenced her. At any rate he should not see that he had impressed her! She laughed lightly.

"What a n.o.ble sentiment, Monsieur! Did you find it in one of Monsieur Rousseau's books?"

"No, Madame, it was not in the works of the famous Monsieur Rousseau that I found the expression of that sentiment," replied Calvert, hesitating slightly. "'Tis the theme of a little song by a young man named Robert Burns, who writes the sweetest poetry in the world, I think. He is a friend and protege of Dr. Witherspoon, of the College of Princeton, who never tires of reading his verses to us. I wish I could give you some idea of the beauty and power of the poem," and he began to translate "For a' that, and a' that" into the best French at his command, smiling every now and then at the strange subst.i.tutes for Burns's Scotch which he was forced to employ and at the curious metamorphosis of the poem into French prose. But he managed to infuse the spirit and sentiment of the original into his offhand translation, and Madame de St. Andre listened attentively.

"I would like to hear more of your poet," she said, gently, when Calvert had finished speaking. "I do not remember to have heard Monsieur Chenier speak of him or the Abbe Delille, either. The Abbe is often good enough to read poetry to us in my aunt's drawing-room, but 'tis usually his own," and she laughed mischievously. "The poor gentleman makes a great fuss about it, too. He must have his dish of tea at his elbow and the shades all drawn, with only the firelight or a single candle to read by, and when we are all quaking with fear at the darkness and solemn silence, he begins to recite, and imagines that 'tis his verses which have so moved us!" and she laughed merrily again. "You shall come and read to us from your young Scotch poet and s.n.a.t.c.h the Abbe's laurels from him! Indeed, my aunt has already conceived a great liking for you, Monsieur, so she told me last night on her way from Madame Necker's, and intends to urge upon Mr. Jefferson to bring you to see her immediately."

She smiled at Calvert so graciously and with such unaffected good-humor that he looked at her with delight and wonder at the change come over her. Once more the mask was down. All the haughtiness and capricious anger had faded away, and Calvert thought he had never beheld a creature so charming and so beautiful. Her dark eyes shone like stars in a wintry sky, and, though the air was frosty, the roses bloomed in her cheeks. As he looked at her there was a troubled smile on his lips and he felt a sudden quickening of his pulse. A curious sense of remoteness from her impressed itself upon him. He looked around at the unfamiliar scene, at the towering palace walls on his right, at the crowds of spectators on the river's edge, at the brilliant throng of skaters, at the great stone bridge spanning the frozen river over which people were forever pa.s.sing to and fro, some hurriedly, some with leisure to lean over the parapet for a moment to watch the unaccustomed revelry below. And as he looked, another scene, which he had so lately left, rose before him. In fancy he could see the broad and shining Potomac, on its banks the stately old colonial house with its colonnaded wings, something after the fashion of General Washington's mansion at near-by Mount Vernon, the green lawns stretching away from the portico and the fragrant depths of the woods beyond. A voice recalled him from his abstraction. It was that of Monsieur de St. Aulaire, who, as they neared the crowded terrace of the Tuileries gardens, emerged from a group of skaters and, approaching Calvert and Madame de St. Andre, made a profound bow before the latter.

"Is Madame de St. Andre to show favor to none but Monsieur Calvert?" he asks, in a low voice that had an accent of mockery in it as he bent over the young girl's hand.

"'Tis no favor that I show Monsieur Calvert," she replied, smiling.

"'Tis a privilege to skate with so perfect a master of the art."

"I shall be most happy to take a lesson from Monsieur later in the afternoon," returned St. Aulaire, courteously, but with a disagreeable smile playing about his mouth. "In the meantime, if Monsieur will but resign you for a time--" He stopped and shrugged his shoulders slightly.

Calvert moved from his place beside Madame de St. Andre.

As he made his way toward the sh.o.r.e, intending to remove his skates and find Mr. Jefferson and Mr. Morris, d'Azay and Beaufort came up and urged upon him to join them. Both were good skaters, but the young American excelled them in a certain lightness and grace, and the three friends, as they circled about, trying a dozen difficult and showy manoeuvres on the ice, attracted much attention. It was after half an hour of the vigorous exercise and as Mr. Calvert stopped for an instant to take breath and pay his respects to Madame de Flahaut, who had ventured upon the ice in a chair-sleigh surrounded by her admirers, that Monsieur de St. Aulaire again presented himself before him.

"I have come for my lesson, Monsieur," he said to Calvert, bowing after his incomparably graceful fashion, which Calvert (who had never before wasted thought upon such things) suddenly found himself envying, and with the disagreeable smile still upon his lips.

"I am no skating-master, Monsieur," returned the young man, quietly, and with as good grace as he was master of, "but I shall be happy to have a turn upon the ice with you," and with that he moved off, leaving St.

Aulaire to stay or follow as he chose. He chose to follow and skated rapidly after Calvert with no very benevolent look on his handsome, dissipated face. Although he was by far the best skater among the French gentlemen who thronged the ice, and although it was little short of a marvel that he should be so active at his age, he was scarcely a match for the younger man either in lightness or quickness of movement. And although his splendid dress and jewels so overshadowed Mr. Calvert's quiet appearance, he was conscious of being excelled before the crowd of spectators by the agility and sure young strength of the American.

Piqued and disgusted at the thought, the habitual half-mocking good-humor of his manner gave way to sullen, repressed irritation.

Knowing his world so well, he was sure of the interest and curiosity Calvert's performance would arouse, and longed to convert his little triumph into a defeat. Being accustomed to doing everything he undertook a little better, a little more gracefully, with a little more eclat than anyone else, he suddenly began to hate this young man who had beaten him at his own game and for whom he had felt an aversion from the first moment of seeing him.

He tried to bethink himself of some plan of lowering his enemy's colors.

In his younger days he had been a notable athlete, excelling in vaulting and jumping, and suddenly an idea occurred to him which he thought would result in mortification to Mr. Calvert and success to himself. So great was the interest in the skating of the two gentlemen that the greater part of the crowd had retired beyond a little ledge of roughened ice and snow which cut the improvised arena into two nearly equal parts from where they could conveniently see Monsieur de St. Aulaire and Mr.

Calvert as they skated about. This rift in the smoothness of the ice was some fifteen feet wide and extended far out from the sh.o.r.e, so that those wishing to pa.s.s beyond it had to skate out around its end and so get to the other side. Monsieur de St. Aulaire came up close to it, and, as he did so, he suddenly called out to Calvert:

"Let us try the other side, Monsieur, and, as it is too far to go around this, suppose we jump it," and he laughed as he noted Calvert's look of surprise at his proposition.

"As you wish, Monsieur," a.s.sented Calvert, though somewhat dubiously, as he noted the breadth of the roughened surface, and mentally calculated that to miss the clear jump by a hair's-breadth would ensure a hard, perhaps dangerous, fall. 'Twas no easy jump under ordinary circ.u.mstances; weighted down by skates the difficulty would be vastly increased.

"Tis too wide for a standing jump, Monsieur," said St. Aulaire, looking alternately at Calvert and the rift of broken, jagged ice, and laughing recklessly. "We will have to run for it!" And without more words the two gentlemen skated rapidly back for twenty yards and then came forward with tremendous velocity, _pari pa.s.su_, and, both jumping at the same instant, landed on the far side of the ledge, scattering the applauding spectators right and left as they drove in among them, unable for an instant to stop the swiftness of their progress.

"Well done, Monsieur!" called out St. Aulaire, as he wheeled beside Calvert, who had succeeded in checking his impetus. He was smiling, but there was a dark look in his eyes. "Well done, but 'twas too easy--a very school-boy's trick! We must try something a little more difficult to test our agility upon the ice--unless, indeed, Monsieur has had enough?" and he looked at Calvert insultingly full in the face. "The eyes of the world are upon us--" and he waved his hand mockingly toward the throng of spectators on the terrace where the ladies were applauding with gloved hands and the men tapping the frozen ground with canes and swords. From where he stood Calvert could see Mr. Jefferson looking at him and Mr. Morris sitting beside Madame de Flahaut and Madame de St.

Andre, who had left the ice and joined the onlookers.

"It has never been my custom or my desire, Monsieur, to furnish amus.e.m.e.nt for the crowd," said Calvert, returning St. Aulaire's insolent look, "but I should be very sorry to stand in the way of your doing so by declining to act as a foil to your prowess. If there is anything else I can do for you--?" and he bowed and smiled tranquilly at Monsieur de St. Aulaire, who blushed darkly with vexation at the way in which the young man had turned his attack.

"Monsieur is too modest," he said, suavely, controlling himself, and then, calling one of the attendants who was busy near-by sweeping the snow cut by the skates from the ice, he instructed the fellow to bring one of the chairs which had been taken from the palace to the terrace for the convenience of those who had not had their servants bring them.

In a few moments the man returned with a large chair whose deep seat and long arms just suited the purposes of Monsieur de St. Aulaire. Under his direction the man placed it sidewise upon the stratum of broken, irregular ice and snow, the crowd looking on with curiosity at the unusual proceedings.

"By the example and with the approbation of Monsieur le Duc d'Orleans, Monsieur," said St. Aulaire, turning gravely to Calvert, "we do all things a l'Anglaise--for the moment. You, who, after all, are English, will doubtless recognize many of your customs, manners, and sports among us--always supposing Paris is fortunate enough to keep you," and here he smiled deprecatingly and shook his head as if afraid such good fortune could not be true. "I have just conceived the idea of having a steeple-chase on the ice. 'Tis but a poor little hurdle," and he shrugged his shoulders disdainfully, "but 'twill have to do. We will take fifty yards start, Monsieur, and clear the fauteuil, rough ice and all!"

He broke out again in his mocking laugh, and, sculling rapidly backward, soon put the distance between him and the improvised barrier. Calvert turned and followed, not without some inward disgust at the trap laid for him, although outwardly he wore the quiet air habitual to him, and, in spite of his disgust, he could not help but admire the reckless courage and activity which would dare such a thing, for 'twas evident now that the jump had not only to be dangerously long but high also, and any failure to clear the chair and broken ice would inevitably result in a ludicrous, probably serious mishap.

"'Tis evident that we cannot both jump at the same time," says Monsieur de St. Aulaire, courteously. "Shall we try for the honor?" and he drew a coin from his pocket and lightly tossed it upward. 'Twas the fashion in Paris to decide everything by the fall of a coin. "C'est a vous, Monsieur," he says, looking at the gold piece _as_ it lay face upward in his palm, and he laughed lightly again as if not displeased with his luck. As for Calvert, he was no less pleased, for he suddenly felt impatient and eager for the trial. He gave a glance at the fastenings of his skates and then, sweeping around to the starting-place, he skated slowly at first but with ever-increasing speed. As he reached the gilt chair he paused for the infinitesimal part of a second as a horse does at a hurdle, and then, with one clean spring, was over safely. As he slid along the smooth ice, unable to check his impetus, he could hear the applause of the spectators on the sh.o.r.e and the exclamations and laughter of the ladies. Suddenly he bethought him of St. Aulaire. He turned quickly and was just in time to see St. Aulaire start off. There was a gallant recklessness in his bearing, but Calvert noted that his movements seemed heavy, though his pace accelerated greatly as he neared the improvised hurdle. Indeed, he was coming too fast, and, as he reached the unlucky fauteuil, he was going with such speed that he could neither calculate the length of the jump nor raise himself sufficiently for it, and it was with a little cry of horror that Calvert and the onlookers saw the Baron essay it and fall short, catching his skates in the arm of the chair and crashing down heavily upon the ice. In an instant Calvert had reached him. Monsieur de St. Aulaire was lying quite still and unconscious, with a thin stream of blood trickling from a scalp wound on the temple, which had struck a splinter of ice. In a few minutes, after much chafing of his hands and head, he opened his eyes, and Calvert and the crowd who had quickly surrounded the two were relieved to see that the injury had not been serious. A dozen fine handkerchiefs were torn up, and Calvert bound the wounded temple and helped him, still half-stunned, to rise. The fresh air revived him somewhat, and, Madame de Segur's coachman running up at this moment to tell him that his mistress's carriage was at his disposal, he was helped to it, and, amid the sympathetic murmurs of the crowd, was sent off to his apartments in the Palais Royal.

"A thousand pardons for causing you so much trouble, Monsieur," he said, turning to Calvert, with one foot on the step of the carriage. "I shall not forget this afternoon," and he bowed with his accustomed grace, looking incomparably handsome in spite of his pallor and weakness and the bandage about his forehead, and Calvert could not help but admire the courtly ease of his manner, though he saw, too, the evil smile on his lips and the ugly look in his eye. As he turned away he caught sight of Madame de St. Andre, who stood looking after the carriage with an expression of anxiety on her face, which Calvert noticed had lost its rosy color and was now quite pale. He would have gone to her to rea.s.sure her concerning Monsieur de St. Aulaire's safety, but when he went toward her she pretended not to see him, and quickly joined Madame d'Azay and the Marechal de Segur.

The company broke up soon after the accident to Monsieur de St. Aulaire, and in a few minutes Mr. Jefferson, Mr. Morris, and Calvert were in their carriage on the way to the Legation, where Mr. Morris was engaged to dine that evening.

"I thought you had told me that Mr. Calvert was quite indifferent to the fair s.e.x," says Mr. Morris, laughing, and speaking to Mr. Jefferson, but with a side glance at the young man. "If so, he takes a strange way of proving it. He will be the most-talked-of, and therefore the most envied, man in Paris to-morrow," and he began to laugh again.

"Was jumping in the curriculum at the College of Princeton?" asks Mr.

Jefferson, laughing, too.

"But beware of St. Aulaire," said Mr. Morris, suddenly becoming grave and laying a kindly hand on Calvert's shoulder. "I misjudge him if he will take even a fair defeat at sport in the right spirit. Look out for him, Ned--he will not play fair and he will not forget a grudge, or I am greatly deceived in him."

But it was not of Monsieur le Baron's possible revenge or even of his cracked head that Mr. Calvert thought, but of his unrivalled gallantry of bearing and his splendid appearance. And that night when he retired to his own room he practised St. Aulaire's graceful bow before the long cheval gla.s.s, though with most indifferent success, it must be confessed.

"'Tis no use," he said at length to the sober reflection in the gla.s.s, and he threw himself into a chair and burst out laughing at his own folly. "I am only a simple American gentleman, and Monsieur de St.

Aulaire's manners are too elaborate for such. Perhaps 'tis his splendid dress and decorations which give such eclat to his every movement. At any rate I see that I shall have to content myself with my own quiet fashions. And why, indeed, am I suddenly dissatisfied with them?--why wish to change them?"

But though he sat for some time staring into the fire he did not attempt to answer his own queries, and, after a little, he blew out the candles and resolutely addressed himself to sleep.

CHAPTER VIII

THE AMERICANS ARE MADE WELCOME IN PARIS

As Mr. Morris had predicted, Calvert's skill in skating and the accident to Monsieur de St. Aulaire became the topic of conversation in all salons. Accounts of the young American's success on the ice came like a breath of fresh air into the stagnant gossip of the drawing-rooms, and were repeated until the affair had become a notable exploit, and Mr.

Calvert could have posed as a conquering hero had he cared to profit by his small adventure. But the young gentleman was not only entirely indifferent to such success, but scarcely cognizant of it, for he was greatly occupied, and threw himself so heartily into his work that Mr.

Jefferson could never sufficiently congratulate himself on having with him so efficient and willing a secretary. There was an enormous amount of business to be attended to at the Legation, and not even a copying clerk or an accountant to aid in dispatching it. Indeed, the labor put upon our foreign representatives was wellnigh inconceivable, and could those who cavilled at Dr. Franklin's lax business methods but have imagined the tenth of what he had to attend to, they would have been heartily ashamed of their complaints. Many of the enterprises which the good Doctor had begun and left at loose ends, Mr. Jefferson found himself obliged to go on with and finish as satisfactorily as was possible. Besides which there were constant communications on an infinity of subjects to be made to our representatives in London and in Madrid and to our charges d'affaires at Brussels and The Hague; money loans negotiated, bonds executed, important creditors at Paris appeased, and numberless schemes for financial aid to be devised and floated. In all of these affairs Mr. Calvert had his share, so that the young gentleman had but small leisure for that social intercourse into which Mr. Morris entered with such zest and perfect success.

Introduced by Mr. Jefferson and the letters he had brought with him, in an incredibly short time Mr. Morris was known and admired in every salon in Paris, and he stumped his way through them with that admirable savoir faire and st.u.r.dy self-respect, dashed with a wholesome conceit, which made him a.s.sure Calvert one day that he "had never felt embarra.s.sment or a sense of inferiority in any company in which he had ever found himself." It was soon evident that of all the salons of Paris where he was made welcome, the one most to his taste was that of the charming Madame de Flahaut; but wherever he went in that aristocratic society which claimed social preeminence over all others, this unt.i.tled gentleman from a new, almost unknown, country, was easily and quickly one of the most brilliant members. Utterly unawed by the splendid company in which he found himself, he valued it at its true worth and was keenly and amusingly observant of its pretensions, its shams, its flippancy, its instability, its charm. Soon he had become as great a favorite as Mr. Jefferson himself, though winning his enviable position by qualities the very opposite of that gentleman's. Mr. Morris rivalled the Parisians themselves in caustic wit, perfect manners, and the thousand and one social graces of the time, while Mr. Jefferson captivated all by his democratic manners and entire indifference to social conventionality, much as the incomparable Dr. Franklin (whose originality and address in society were indeed _sui generis_ and quite unrivalled) had before him.

But Mr. Morris was possessed of greater qualities than those necessary to make him shine in the vapid, corrupt society of the fashionable world. He was a brilliant, yet sound, thinker, and his earnest convictions, his practical statesmanship, and his shrewd business abilities were quickly appreciated. Indeed, it was difficult to tell whether ladies of fashion or troubled statesmen found him most satisfactory. He could rhyme a delicate compliment for the one or draw up a plan to aid France's crippled revenues for the other, with equal dexterity. His opinion was sought upon the weightiest matters, and, being unfettered by official obligations, as was Mr. Jefferson, he was free to give it, and soon became a.s.sociated with some of the greatest gentlemen in the kingdom and intimately identified with many schemes for the strengthening of the monarchy. For Mr. Morris, while a most ardent republican in his own country, was a royalist in France, convinced that a people, used from time immemorial to an almost despotic government, extremely licentious, and by nature volatile, were utterly unfitted for a republic. In many of the drawing-rooms where indiscriminate and dangerous republicanism was so freely advocated, he was held to be trop aristocrate. With amazing good-humor and keenness he attacked the closet philosophers and knocked over their feeble arguments like tenpins, urgently proclaiming that it was the duty and best policy for every son of France to hold up the king's hands and strengthen his authority. It was almost amusing to note the consternation his views caused among those who, knowing him to be a republican of republicans, a citizen of that country which had so lately and so gloriously won its civil liberty, had expected far different things from him. Indeed, he ran foul of many of the n.o.blesse, with whom 'twas the fashion to be republicans of the first feather, and of none more completely than Monsieur le Marquis de Lafayette.

Monsieur de Lafayette, who had got himself elected from the n.o.blesse in Auvergne, had come back to town in March and was a frequent caller at the Legation, having there a warm friend and ally in Mr. Jefferson. He was unaffectedly glad to see Calvert after such a lapse of time and to meet again Mr. Morris, whom he had also known in America. His admiration and respect for Mr. Morris's qualities were very great, and it was therefore with no little mortification and uneasiness that he noted that gentleman's disapprobation of the trend of public affairs and his own course of action. Indeed, Mr. Morris was seriously alarmed lest the glory which the young Marquis had won in America should be dimmed by his career in his own country. Believing in his high-mindedness and patriotism, he yet questioned his political astuteness and his ability to guide the forces which he had so powerfully helped to set in motion by his call for the States-General. Fully alive to his great qualities, he yet deplored a certain indecision of character and an evident thirst for fame.

Something of all this Mr. Morris expressed to Mr. Jefferson and Mr.

Calvert one evening when the Marquis had retired after an hour's animated conversation on the all-engrossing subject of politics, during which he had given the three gentlemen an account of his campaign in Auvergne. But Mr. Jefferson, being in entire sympathy with Lafayette's ideas, could not agree at all with Mr. Morris's estimate of him and would listen to no strictures on him, except, indeed, the imputation of ambition, which Mr. Jefferson acknowledged amounted to "a canine thirst for fame," as he himself wrote General Washington. Though Mr. Jefferson and Mr. Morris differed so widely respecting the Marquis's genius, Mr.

Morris still clung to his opinion, so that Madame de Lafayette, with wifely jealousy and feminine intuition, perceiving something of his mental att.i.tude toward her husband, received him but coldly when he called with Calvert to pay his respects at the hotel on the Quai du Louvre. So marked was the disapproval of her manner, that Mr. Morris, being both amused and annoyed, could not forbear recounting his reception to Mr. Jefferson, who enjoyed a good laugh at his expense and, as it seemed to Calvert, took a certain satisfaction in his rebuff.

"She gave me the tips of her fingers to kiss," said Mr. Morris, laughing, "gazing over my head the while and smiling at this young gentleman, on whom she lavished every attention, though she had never a word for me!" and he sighed in mock distress and looked affectionately at Mr. Calvert. He had become very fond of the young gentleman in the few weeks they had been together in Paris, and was always anxious to introduce him to his acquaintances, of whom he already had an astonishing number. Mr. Jefferson, being busily occupied with public matters, insisted on Mr. Calvert's accepting Mr. Morris's good offices and, with his invariable kindness and thoughtfulness, made it appear, indeed, that the young gentleman was aiding him by thus a.s.suming some of his social duties. He was secretly much gratified and pleased by the accounts which Mr. Morris gave of his successes.

"Why, 'tis almost indecent the way the women spoil him," that gentleman declared, laughingly, to Mr. Jefferson as they sat alone over their wine one evening after dinner at the Legation, Calvert having retired to finish the copying of some important letters to be despatched to Mr.

Short, who was at Amsterdam. "Elles s'en raffolent, but Ned, incredible as it may seem, is far from being grateful for such a doubtful blessing!