Ga.s.se.

Did I say so? There's been a miracle, A prodigy, which has amazed all Paris For two months past; the flight, the disappearance--

BRICHANTEAU.

Go on! Of whom?

Ga.s.se.

Of Marion de Lorme, The fairest of the fair!

BRICHANTEAU (_with an air of mystery_).

Here's news for you.

She's here!

Ga.s.se.

At Blois?

BRICHANTEAU.

Incognito!

Ga.s.se.

What! she?

In this place? Oh, you must be jesting, sir!

Fair Marion, who sets the fashions! Bah!

This Blois is the antipodes of Paris.

Observe! How ugly, old, ungainly, 'tis!

Even those towers-- [_Indicating the towers of St. Nicholas._ Uncouth and countrified!

ROCHEBARON.

That's true.

BRICHANTEAU.

Won't you believe Saverny when He says he saw her, hidden somewhere with A lover, and this lover saved his life When thieves attacked him in the street at night?-- Good thieves, who took his purse for charity, And just desired his watch to know the time.

Ga.s.se.

You tell me wonders!

ROCHEBARON (_to Brichanteau_).

Are you sure of it?

BRICHANTEAU.

As sure as that I have six silver bezants Upon a field of azure. Saverny Has no desire, at present, but to find This man.

BOUCHAVANNES.

He ought to find him at her house.

BRICHANTEAU.

She's changed her name and lodging, and all trace Of her is lost.

[_Marion and Didier cross the back of the stage slowly without being noticed by the talkers; they enter a small door in one of the houses on the side._

Ga.s.se.

To have to come to Blois To find our Marion, a provincial!

[_Enter Count de Villac and Chevalier de Montpesat, disputing loudly._

VILLAC.

No!

I tell you no!

MONTPESAT.

And I--I tell you, yes!

VILLAC.

Corneille is bad!

MONTPESAT.

To treat Corneille like that-- The author of "The Cid" and of "Melite."

VILLAC.

"Melite"? Well, I will grant you that is good; But he degenerated after that, As they all do. I'll do the best I can To satisfy you: talk about "Melite,"

"The Gallery of the Palace," but "The Cid!"

What is it, pray?

Ga.s.se (_to Montpesat_).

You are conservative.

MONTPESAT.