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Updated: June 18, 2025
"Eugene," said she, almost gasping for breath, "I bear my mother's name; but I am the daughter of your bitterest enemy, Louvois." Eugene started back in horror. "Louvois! Louvois!" echoed he, mournfully. "And Barbesieur, her brother!" "Not my own brother," cried Laura, terrified at the effect of her revelation.
"I think, sir, I think you are are ah, yes! I know. You are Count Barbesieur de Louvois." "Right, right," cried Barbesieur. "Laura Strozzi's brother." "Are you the brother of my darling Laura?" cried Strozzi. "If you are, you are welcome, sir. Oh, if she were but alive to see you!" "Alive? What do you mean? Where do you suppose her to be?"
Do you see that swarthy, sinister face over there, close to Barbesieur? It is the Marquis de Strozzi staring at me already. He is about to come hither, and if you do not assist me I shall have to dance with him." "Never fear, darling," whispered the duchess in return. "They shall not rob me of you so soon. Take your place, and, being on duty, no one can claim you, were it the wild hunter himself."
"Leave me, I implore you," was the faltering reply of his stricken, wife; "leave me for this one day!" "I will," cried Strozzi, casting passionate glances at her, "but to- morrow?" "To-morrow," replied Laura, solemnly, "to-morrow is in the hands of God!" "There, now," exclaimed Barbesieur, "she is making promises already. Come along I am really hungry."
You that were once publicly disgraced by " "Your marriage has long ago consoled me for that trifling mishap," interrupted Barbesieur, "and in Paris nobody has ever presumed to think less of me on account of it. I think that, in every way, the sufferer there from was the valiant Eugene. And, by-the-by, that leads directly to the business that brought me hither.
I have repeated their conversation, word for word, not a sigh or a kiss have I forgotten. Who but his poor Louise would have served him so faithfully! 'Tis a vile trade, that of a spy; nor would I have accepted such a mission for all the gold in the king's treasury; but, for love of Barbesieur Louvois, I would sell my own sister to infamy why not his?"
"But you see your error now, do you not, uncle? since not only I, but my whole household proclaim him to be the ring-leader of that riot, which forced my mother into exile." "And yet he is assuredly Barbesieur Louvois," laughed the Prince de Conti. "Well we shall see," was the reply. "He has disengaged himself from his coach-window, and if he is a gentleman he will know what he has to do."
"Sir," said he, gently, "do release my hand, for see you are bruising my flowers." "Sure enough, he does not recognize me," said Barbesieur, relaxing his hold; while Strozzi, unmindful of his presence, caressed his flowers, and smoothed their crumpled leaves. "She loves flowers," murmured the poor maniac. Barbesieur took up the words. "Yes," said he, "yes; my sister Laura loves flowers.
With such a birdling as you to carol around me, the lark that once dwelt in my heart, will find its voice again, and awake to sing a hymn of thankfulness to God, who has enriched me with the blessing of your love." "And I, dear lady, will try to deserve the happiness He has vouchsafed to me, by loving all His creatures even Barbesieur himself." "Ah! Barbesieur!" echoed the duchess, thoughtfully.
"Who is that strange-looking old man?" asked Barbesieur. "That, my lord, is the Marquis Strozzi!" "Impossible!" cried Barbesieur, with a start. "I told you. my lord, that he looked like a decrepit old man," said Carlotta. "And truly he is not a very seductive-looking personage," answered Barbesieur.
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