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Updated: June 5, 2025
A tense silence had followed his words, and the Lord Seneschal gaped at him, some of the colour fading from his plethoric countenance, suspecting as he did the true drift of Marius's suggestion. At last it was madame who spoke very softly, with a narrowing of the eyes. "Call Fortunio," was all she said, but Marius understood full well the purpose for which she would have Fortunio called.
Across his barricade he peered into the outer room to ascertain with what fresh opponents he might have to reckon, and he was surprised to see but four men standing by Fortunio, whilst behind them among the thicker shadows, he dimly made out a woman's figure and, beside her, another man who was short and squat.
But Marius, who of a sudden was much taken with the notion, again broke in. "Are you to be depended upon to make no mistake, Fortunio?" "Per Bacco!" swore the ruffler. "A mistake must cost me a hundred pistoles. I think you may depend upon me there. If I err at all, it will be on the side of eagerness to see you make short work of him. You have my answer now, monsieur.
As the son of a dramatist and the nephew of a popular composer, he had easy access to the stage. He began as the librettist-in-ordinary to M. Offenbach, for whom he wrote Ba-ta-clan in 1855, and later the Chanson de Fortunio, the Pont des Soupirs and Orphée aux Enfers.
They went, madame with bowed head, her stubborn pride broken at last as the Abbot of Saint Francis had so confidently promised her. After them went the Abbot and the lackeys of Florimond, and Fortunio went with these to carry out Garnache's orders that the men of the Dowager's garrison be sent packing at once, leaving with the Parisian, in the great hall, just Mademoiselle de La Vauvraye.
"Madame," he said, "at the worst we can shut our gates and fling defiance at them. We are well-manned, and Fortunio is seeking fresh recruits." "Seeking them, yes," she sneered. "For a week has the fellow been spending money like water, addling the brains of half Grenoble with the best wine at the Auberge de France, yet not a single recruit has come in, so far." Marius laughed.
Only when some wiseacres approached my parents with hints that my studies with a ragged man who lived on snails and garden-stuff were uncommonly like traffic with the devil, Fortunio, hearing the matter, walked over one morning to our home and had an interview with my mother. I don't know what was said; but I know that afterwards no resistance was made to my visits to the glass-house.
She was going down the stairs, Fortunio a step behind her, when her mind reverted to the happening at La Rochette. "Was it well done?" she asked. "It made some stir," said he. "The Marquis had men with him, and had the affair taken place in France ill might have come of it." "You shall give me a full account of it," said she, rightly thinking that there was still something to be explained.
She asked him for some account of himself and whence he came, using the Italian tongue, of which she had a passing knowledge. He followed her questions very attentively, at times with apparent difficulty, his eyes on her face, his head craned a little forward. Now and then Fortunio had to intervene, to make plainer to this ignorant Piedmontese mind the Marquise's questions.
But the obstacles which should have hindered his assailants hindered Garnache even more at this juncture. In that instant Fortunio whipped the chair from the table-top, and flung it forward. One of its legs caught Garnache on the sword arm, deadening it for a second. The sword fell from his hand, and Valerie shrieked aloud, thinking the battle at an end.
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