The king had announced his jeu du roi for the evening; and at seven o’clock he entered, with ten princes and princesses of his family. The queen came holding the princess royal, now about seven years old, by the hand. The assembly was numerous and brilliant. The Comte d’Artois approached the queen, and said, “Look around you, madame.”
“Well?”
“What do you see?”
The queen looked all around, and then said, “I see nothing but happy and friendly faces.”
“Rather, then, whom do you not see?”
“Oh! I understand; I wonder if he is always going to run away from me.”
“Oh no! only this is a good joke; M. de Provence has gone to wait at the barrier for M. de Suffren.”
“Well, I do not see why you laugh at that; he has been the most cunning, after all, and will be the first to receive and pay his compliments to this gentleman.”
“Come, dear sister,” replied the young prince, laughing, “you have a very mean opinion of our diplomacy1. M. de Provence has gone to meet him at Fontainebleau; but we have sent some one to meet him at Villejuif, so that my brother will wait by himself at Fontainebleau, while our messenger will conduct M. de Suffren straight to Versailles, without passing through Paris at all.”
“That is excellently imagined.”
“It is not bad, I flatter myself; but it is your turn to play.”
The king had noticed that M. d’Artois was making the queen laugh, and guessing what it was about, gave them a significant glance, to show that he shared their amusement.
The saloon where they played was full of persons of the highest rank—M. de Condé, M. de Penthièvre, M. de Tremouille, etc. The news of the arrival of M. de Suffren had, as we have said, been kept quiet, but there had been a kind of vague rumor2 that some one was expected, and all were somewhat preoccupied3 and watchful4. Even the king, who was in the habit of playing six-franc pieces in order to moderate the play of the court, played gold without thinking of it.
The queen, however, to all appearances entered, as usual, eagerly into the game.
Philippe, who, with his sister, was admitted to the party, in vain endeavored to shake from his mind his father’s words. He asked himself if indeed this old man, who had seen so much of courts, was not right; and if his own ideas were indeed those of a Puritan, and belonging to another land. This queen, so charming, so beautiful, and so friendly towards him, was she indeed only a terrible coquette, anxious to add one lover more to her list, as the entomologist transfixes a new insect or butterfly, without thinking of the tortures of the poor creature whose heart he is piercing? “Coigny, Vaudreuil,” repeated he to himself, “they loved the queen, and were loved by her. Oh, why does this calumny5 haunt me so, or why will not some ray of light discover to me the heart of this woman?”
Then Philippe turned his eyes to the other end of the table, where, by a strange chance, these gentlemen were sitting side by side, and both seemingly equally forgetful of, and insensible to, the queen; and he thought that it was impossible that these men could have loved and be so calm, or that they could have been loved and seem so forgetful. From them he turned to look at Marie Antoinette herself and interrogated6 that pure forehead, that haughty7 mouth, and beautiful face; and the answer they all seemed to give him was: calumnies8, all calumnies, these rumors9, originating only in the hates and jealousies10 of a court.
While he was coming to these conclusions the clock struck a quarter to eight, and at that moment a great noise of footsteps and the sound of many voices were heard on the staircase. The king, hearing it, signed to the queen, and they both rose and broke up the game. She then passed into the great reception-hall, and the king followed her.
An aide-de-camp of M. de Castries, Minister of Marine11, approached the king and said something in a low tone, when M. de Castries himself entered, and said aloud, “Will your majesty12 receive M. de Suffren, who has arrived from Toulon?”
At this name a general movement took place in the assembly.
“Yes, sir,” said the king, “with great pleasure;” and M. de Castries left the room.
To explain this interest for M. de Suffren, and why king, queen, princes, and ministers contended who should be the first to receive him, a few words will suffice.
Suffren is a name essentially13 French, like Turenne or Jean Bart. Since the last war with England, M. de Suffren had fought seven great naval14 battles without sustaining a defeat. He had taken Trincomalee and Gondeleur, scoured15 the seas, and taught the Nabob Hyder Ali that France was the first Power in Europe. He had carried into his profession all the skill of an able diplomatist, all the bravery and all the tactics of a soldier, and all the prudence16 of a wise ruler. Hardy17, indefatigable
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