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Updated: June 3, 2025
The Marquis of Castrillon, meanwhile, was pirouetting sublimely before the long mirror in his dressing-room, while his valet, a sour-faced individual, looked on in great but gloomy interest. The Marquis was superbly dressed in a Louis Seize costume an exact reproduction of the one worn by that monarch on his wedding-day and he presented a very fine figure.
The Mexicans fell fast. In five minutes thirty or forty were killed, some of them falling into the river, and the rest, dropping the timbers, fled with shouts of horror from the fatal spot. General Castrillon, a brave man, sought to drive them back, but neither blows nor oaths availed. Santa Anna himself came and made many threats, but the men would not stir.
They entered the great dining room, and, once more, Ned stood face to face with the most glorious general, the most illustrious dictator, Don Antonio Lopez de Santa Anna. But Ned alone stood. The dictator sat at the head of the table, about which were Castrillon, Sesma, Cos, Gaona, the Italian, Filisola and others.
"Does she resemble, in any way, I wonder, her good mother, Madame Duboc?" No, she had her own style although she was coquettish enough. And pretty? Delicious. "This is better," thought his Excellency, "much better. And do you think," he asked, aloud, "that she cares at all for Orange?" Castrillon smirked and put his hand, half instinctively, to his breast-pocket.
"Have you been to Prince d'Alchingen's, or has he approached you in any way?" "I am to dine with him to-morrow." "Has he said anything to you about the Marquis of Castrillon?" "Not a word," replied Robert, in surprise: "why should he?" "I believe there is mischief in the air. Be careful, won't you? Reckage is watching us. I think he would like some music. He is so triste this evening."
Castrillon was not given to the utterance of vain threats, and his anger was so great that the wretched Isidore, shaking, whining, and cursing, edged round the room with his back to the wall and his eyes fixed on his master. "Stand still, will you?" continued the Marquis; "I want to hear a little more. How much were you paid for giving me this twaddle? Answer me that." "Two guineas!" "Two?
"That is just what I mean to find out," replied Castrillon, "and that is why I won't shoot you till it suits my convenience." Isidore, who had a venomous attachment to the Marquis, burst into tears. For many generations their respective ancestors had stood in the relation, each to the other, of tyrant and dependent.
I must say so, although I don't wish to interfere. And so long as she knows M. de Castrillon, it is better taste to make her first appearance with him than with some strange actor engaged for the occasion. After all, Mario was well known as the Marchese di Candia before he adopted the operatic stage as a profession. As for gossip, how is anybody's tongue to be stopped?"
When he remarked that it was grande folie de vouloir d'être sage avec une sagesse impossible, the Prince's spirits rose only to fall again, however, at a later pronouncement from the same lips to the effect that virtuous women always brought tears to his eyes. Parflete is an admirable actress." Castrillon kissed the tips of his fingers to the air, and ejaculated: "Adorable!"
There! I have been wondering what I could call her. She is Titania in alabaster. Marble is too strong. At first, I thought it might be marble. I have changed my mind since. I suppose you know she will act in this comedy with Castrillon at the d'Alchingens?" "So Disraeli has told me. Did you come to tell me that, also?" She coloured, but met his angry glance without flinching.
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