CHAPTER IX

MADEMOISELLE

In the morning of the following day we were engaged about a business which troubled me no little. Had it not been for Jerome I fear I had never come through it at all with credit.

First, we repaired to another house which Jerome possessed in a more fashionable quarter, and thither by his directions came a fawning swarm of tailors, boot-makers, barbers, wig-makers; vendors of silken hose and men with laces, jaunty caps, perfumes--it was a huge task, this making a gentlemen of me--as Jerome phrased it.

I worried over it grievously in the beginning, but at length sullenly delivered myself into his hands, murmuring an abject prayer for the salvation of my soul. That, at least, was not to be remodeled by all their fashionable garniture. These heated discussions concerning what I was to wear were not for me to put a voice in. Verily, I knew nothing and cared naught for the cut of a shoe my Lord of Orleans had made the style, nor did it matter whether my coat was slashed with crimson or braided with golden furbelows. Like some wretch a-quivering of the palsy I heard the learned doctors wrangling over my medicine, which they must needs hold my nose to make me swallow. For all their biases and twistings I knew full well they could carve no sprig of fashion from so rough a block as I. Certes, I must now have a squire to fasten this new harness well upon me, for by my word, I knew not one garment from the other by sight of it. Jerome went off into fits of laughter seeing me trying to struggle into things I could not even guess the use of.

When the worst was over, late in the afternoon, I felt like a play-actor, dressed for his part, but who, for the life of him, could not recall one syllable of his speech, nor breathe because of his wig.

Jerome surveyed me with a half-critical, half-approving scrutiny, until I essayed to buckle on my sword.

"By my lady, fine sir, that dingy old cutla.s.s will never do for a drawing-room. As well a miller's dusty cap to cover those glorious borrowed curls of thine; we must get thee one shaped in the mode."

This quip exterminated my patience.

"To the foul fiend with all this everlasting style of thine. I know this blade, have tested it on many fields, and by all the G.o.ds at once I'll not replace it with a silly toy."

"A most virtuous resolution, a most G.o.dly oath, but my mettlesome friend, I'll point out thy error."

To his insinuating argument, even in this matter, at length I yielded; surrendered with the better grace perhaps, that he provided a most excellent piece of steel, which he said had seen good service. I tried its temper, and the edge being keen, I laid my own aside with sore mis...o...b..ings, casting off an old friend to strap on a new. He now added a touch of rouge here and there, a black line to my brows and in the corners of my eyes, stepping back ever and anon to observe the effect. It galled me raw, yet I must perforce submit. When the whole job was finished, and I was allowed to sit, I gained no comfort. My clothes were too tight in some places, while in others I rocked about as loose as a washerwoman's arm in her scrubbing tub.

Jerome must now give me some lessons in deportment, he called it. It was but another name for a smirking and a-bowing and a-grimacing, what was denominated the "etiquette of the court." Jerome sat himself contented down, and put me through my paces like some farrier showing off a foundered nag. I more than half believed he was all the while making game of me, yet I knew no better. At any rate it was the veriest nonsense.

After a series of rehearsals Jerome withdrew to make himself ready, leaving me to practice my new acquirements of gait, of gesture, and of speech. What had taken me the better part of a laborious day he accomplished in a short half hour. Coming back unannounced he caught me bowing and sc.r.a.ping before a mirror, like a man stricken with idiocy. I felt as shamed as though I had been detected hiding in face of the enemy.

Jerome mocked and taunted me into a fine rage, which he deftly pacified in wonderment at himself. I should never have known him again for the plain Jerome. Arrayed in much the same character of finery which bedecked me, I could give no accurate description of his dress, except that with glossy wig and a bit of color in his cheeks he strutted valiantly as a crowing c.o.c.k in his own barnyard.

"Come, Placide, we are going to a ball; we can do nothing in our quest to-night."

"To a what?"

"A ball. I thought it might be well to have you look in upon Madame M--'s and recite your lessons. It is to be a famous gathering and well worth your seeing."

I was in a whirl, a stupor, by this time, and obeyed implicitly; beside, it required such an infinite skill to keep my sword from swinging between my legs and throwing me down, I had no time to consider of minor matters. He led the way and I followed meekly as a lap-dog.

At the great entrance gate we became entangled in a medley of soldiers, coachmen, torch-bearers and servants coming and going--such a babel of strange oaths--I wished I were safe again in the quiet of Biloxi. I pleaded with Jerome to turn again, but he was inexorable.

"I expect to find out something to-night," he explained.

Of this ball I remember nothing but that the slippery floor, in which a man could see his own face, kept me in deadly fear lest my sword trip me. Jerome was gay and talkative, pointing out many people of whom I had heard, but they did not look so great after all.

"For sake of heaven man, wear not so long a face; it is not the funeral of thy mistress I have brought thee to."

I marveled that so many old ladies should carry such young faces or perchance their hair had turned gray earlier than was its wont in the colonies. And, too, they seemed sadly disfigured with boils, for on the chin or cheek of nearly every one there showed a patch of black sticking-plaster. Poor things! I sorrowed for them, it was so humiliating. Verily, I pitied them all, and speculated on the wonderful compensations of Providence. With all their wealth and rank, their lordly castles and their jewels, these n.o.ble dames could not purchase that which the humblest serving-maid in Quebec had, and to spare--a clear skin and sunny locks.

I touched upon these matters to Jerome, but he only laughed immoderately. He was ever a light-headed young spark who gave no contemplation to deeper questions than present enjoyment.

Of a sudden my wits almost left me at a terrible outcry from one end of the great hall, a cry not of human beings but of wild beasts, m.u.f.fled and menacing. The dancing, the music, the hum of voices ceased, and a thick silence as of direst fear fell upon them all. Then there came a loud crackling and shattering of gla.s.s, a woman's scream, the first of very many. This for aught I know might have been a usual happening at a ball, I had never been to one before.

I looked for Jerome. He was gone, speeding toward a young lady surpa.s.sing fair, with whom he had been speaking but a few moments since. I fain would have a.s.sisted him, for the damsel appeared wofully beset, but the whole throng of mincing lords and screaming ladies, in the rankest riot, over-ran me. They swept me from my feet and bore me back to the farthest wall, where I found myself pinned tight and fast against a window.

What the danger was I could not see, but it must have been dolorous from the headlong terror of their flight. Soon by the thinning of the crowd through the doors I saw the cause. It was a motley and a moving spectacle. For by some mischance a flock of sheep had broken into the ball-room, and frightened out of their shallow senses by the lights and music, they rushed pell-mell here and there, upsetting without discrimination whatever stood in their path.

Verily such an onset would do brave work against an enemies' ranks, for could our knights but make a gap like that, an army of children might march through unhindered. All went down alike before their charge, my lord and my lady, the Prince of the Blood, and the humblest page who bore his pouncet box. Such a slipping and a sliding across a floor slickened with much wax and polishing, was never in a ball room before, nor ever was again. One old ram regarded each mirror as a certain avenue of escape, and the radiating fracture of each taught him no greater wisdom concerning the others.

Standing spellbound as a statue in the midst of the ruins, I caught sight of a florid, rotund lady, speechless in her horror and her misery.

"The d.u.c.h.ess does not enjoy her quaint surprise," laughed a light voice behind me, and a slim finger directed my gaze toward the lady whom I had just noted.

I observed then at my back, standing upon a chair where she could see the better, a young woman of distinguished appearance, rather more plainly attired than the balance. She appeared greatly to enjoy the confusion.

"That is the reward for her romantic and pastoral tastes," and she laughed till the tears dripped down her cheeks. Her hair was still black, and neither paint nor sticking plaster marred the whiteness of her skin. I asked no questions, but regarded more closely this young woman with whom I now drifted naturally into conversation. Her manners were strikingly free and unconstrained. There was, however, an air of reserve, of dignity--of majesty even---about her, despite her frankness, which forbade anything but the utmost deference.

"Does my lord understand--that?" and she pointed her finger to the servants who were chasing and capturing the refractory sheep one by one.

I shook my head, for, in all seriousness, it was a queer proceeding.

"Well it's too merry a jest to keep long a secret. Beside I'm weary of these eternal shackles of court which forbid me to speak to those whom I please." A certain defiance gave an undercurrent of sadness to her voice, a mounting rebellion to her tone.

"And I _will_ talk if I want to; there's no harm, is there?"

I gravely a.s.sured her not, and wondered what was coming.

"Well, you see," she dried her eyes on a handkerchief of costliest lace, "you see my--that is, the d.u.c.h.ess, is of such a romantic temperament, so enamoured of rural scenes, idyllic meadows, pretty shepherdesses, and the like--all the court makes merry at her foible.

She thought to astonish Paris to-night by a lavish display of sweet simplicity--did Monsieur see it? That big dark place back there, behind the gla.s.s part.i.tion, was arranged as a meadow, with a stream winding through it, and rocks and trees, and what not. She had a flock of sheep washed clean and white, penned up and in waiting. At a signal from her during the ball, lights were to have been turned on, and Mademoiselle, the pretty opera singer, was to come gracefully down a curving pathway, dressed as a shepherdess, singing and leading her sheep. Oh, it was to be too pure for this earth. The d.u.c.h.ess fretted for the opportune time. But the sheep escaped from their keepers, and, oh, isn't it too ludicrous?"

Thus she chattered on with the naive freedom of any other young demoiselle. I agreed with her, and was inwardly glad the affair turned out an accident, for were this the custom of b.a.l.l.s I'd go to no others.

We continued to chat gayly together; she was of a lively wit, and surprised me by her knowledge of dogs and horses, of the chase, of sword play and of firearms. Odd tastes for a gentlewoman, most of all for one of her exalted rank. Of this latter I had no doubt. I knew none of the people she mentioned, nothing of the drawing-room gossip, and she very naturally remarked.

"My lord is a stranger?"

"Only yesterday in Paris," I a.s.sented.

"From what place comes my lord?" and for the second time in a day I was driven to a direct lie.

"From Normandy," I replied.

"To live in Paris?"

"No, unfortunately; my affairs will be finished in a few days at most.

Then I return to the country." The lady was pensive for a s.p.a.ce, hesitated in a pretty perplexity and then spoke doubtfully.

"You can be of a service to me if you will."

I immediately signified my willingness to render her aid, in the courtliest speech I could muster. She looked at me long and seriously again, then again pursued the subject of her thought.