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His voice had grown more steady and his look more determined as he put these rapid questions to Clyffurde, whose expressive face showed no sign of any feeling in response save that of complete and indifferent puzzlement. "I have no desire with regard to Mlle. de Cambray," replied Bobby quietly, "save that of serving her, if it be in my power."
"That I never told you how M. le Comte de Cambray, Commander of the Order of the Holy Ghost, Grand Cross of the Order du Lys, Hereditary Grand Chamberlain of France, etc., etc., came to sit at the same table as a vendor and buyer of gloves," said Clyffurde gaily. "There's no secret about it.
Somewhere in the house down below, an old-fashioned clock had just struck two. Clyffurde looked up from his absorbing task. "It is late," he remarked casually; "shall we say good-night, M. de St. Genis?" The sound of the Englishman's voice seemed to startle Maurice out of his reverie.
He the stranger was of so little consequence after all! a tradesman and an Englishman what mattered what his political convictions were? De Marmont was an object of hatred, but he Clyffurde was only one of contempt. He heard the muttered words: "English spy!" "Informer!" and others of still more overwhelming disdain. But he cared little what these people said.
Emery, dear friend, wish me joy and happiness. On Tuesday I wed Mademoiselle Crystal de Cambray to-night we sign our marriage contract! Wish me joy, I say! she's a bride well worth the winning! Napoleon sets forth to conquer a throne I to conquer love. And you, old sober-face, do not look so glum!" he added, turning to Clyffurde.
We took a liking to one another, and since then have ridden a great deal together. He is a splendid horseman, and I was very glad to be able to offer him a mount at different times. But our political conversations have never been very heated or very serious. Clyffurde maintains a detached impersonal attitude both to the Bonapartist and the royalist cause.
Genis is among the Brunswickers. But Bobby Clyffurde is with Maitland's guards. And now the wave of steel is surging up the incline: the gleam of shining metal pierces the distant haze, casques and lances glitter in the slowly sinking sun, whilst from billow to billow the echo brings to straining ears the triumphant cry "Vive l'Empereur!"
Such visions come from God! no man sees them save he whose soul is great and whose heart is pure. Poor Bobby Clyffurde lonely, heart-broken, desolate saw the exquisite face that he would have loved to kiss he saw it with the golden glow of evening upon the delicate cheeks, and with the lurid light of fire and battle upon the soft, fair hair.
Clyffurde, good-humoured, genial, quiet as usual, quickly responded to the surgeon-captain's desire. He took his seat once more at the table and spoke of the weather and the sunshine, the Alps and the snows the while Annette spread a cloth and laid plates and knives and forks before the distinguished gentlemen.
I could have laughed if it were not all so miserably stupid." He paused for want of breath and tried to peer through the window of the coach. "It is pitch-dark," he said, "but we can't be very far from the city now." "I don't see," rejoined Clyffurde, ostentatiously smothering a yawn, "what M. le préfet's visit to Brestalou had to do with the Duchesse's journey to the north.
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