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Updated: July 15, 2025
Then he dismounted, and advancing, bent and whispered in Mademoiselle Capello's ear, as she followed Madame Riano, who stalked ahead. The Russian officer remained on the farther edge of the bridge. I could not see Francezka's face clearly, as it was shaded by her large black hat and she kept her eyes downcast.
He told me that Francezka's face haunted him, and the absence of any reproach on her part for the imprudence which led to Gaston's capture went like a poniard to his heart. We reached the Luxembourg before midnight, and were abroad by daylight. I, myself, went to the café of the Green Basket, where news was to be gathered, and found that wild rumors were afloat concerning Gaston Cheverny's return.
Every waking hour, and often in my dreams, I saw Francezka's face as I had last seen it, pale and despairing. There was something else besides pleasuring at Chambord; the fêtes were meant to disguise more serious events.
We sang at table, according to the French custom, and Gaston Cheverny, who was easily master of us all in that craft, sang a song of the Cardinal de Rohan and sang it with meaning in his voice a meaning which brought deep blushes to Francezka's cheek, a scowl to Regnard Cheverny's face, and smiles to the rest of us.
Espère, il reviendra! which particularly applied to Francezka and Gaston. I saw the eyes of Francezka and Gaston meet when this strain was sweetly played; they sat, after the French custom, opposite each other in the middle of the long table. Francezka's eyes were those of an angel, and Gaston's were so full of pride, of love, of triumph, that they shone like stars.
Nor was he the only wit who frequented the Hôtel Kirkpatrick. Not only wits, but scholars like Maupertius, the two Bernouillis, many poets and literary men, Cardinal de Polignac and Marquis de Beauvau, soldiers like Marshal Count de Belle-Isle, his brother the Chevalier, the Prince de Soubise, the Prince de Clermont, and others, made Francezka's saloon shine.
But events were moving silently but swiftly, and when I least expected it when Francezka's sad fate seemed fixed; when her life had apparently adjusted itself finally, a great, a stupendous change was at hand. It came suddenly but quietly, and the news of it met us at the last place and from the last person one might possibly expect.
On one side were the far-off black gorges and purple forests we had left; and on the other, the rich, green-knolled cultivated country, with fields and orchards ripening under the August sun. Francezka's arrival scarcely for a moment interrupted the work of intrenching the island. As to her fate, or ours, no one could tell.
Besides this, there were numbers of young officers who were deeply smitten by Francezka's own dark eyes, for she was one of those women born to trouble the hearts of men. No young girl ever had more of admiration and adulation than Francezka had, on this her first entrance upon a larger stage than that of a province. Count Saxe showed her marked, but respectful attention.
I saw compassion for him in Francezka's face, and thought she might contrive to help Monsieur Voltaire.
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