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Updated: June 3, 2025
"Nonsense!" he cried. "Nonsense, Nocé, you began the jest." Then he added, in a lower voice: "You can't pick a quarrel with the poor devil." The hunchback paid him an extravagant salutation. "Monsieur de Chavernay, you are always chivalrous. You really ought to die young, for it will take so much trouble to turn you into a rogue."
As soon as Chavernay had disappeared, Peyrolles, hurriedly beckoning, gathered about him Navailles, Nocé, and the others, and addressed them in an eager whisper: "Gentlemen, you are all devoted to the interests of the Prince de Gonzague?" Nocé spoke for himself and his comrades: "We are."
One evening when I was talking about these serious matters with the late Comte de Noce, of whom I have already had occasion to speak, a tall white-haired old man, his intimate friend, whose name I will not give, because he is still alive, looked at us with a somewhat melancholy air.
The Comte de Noce had returned from Coblenz at a time when it was dangerous for the nobility to be found in France. No one had such courage and such kindness, such craft and such recklessness as this aristocrat.
"Ah! my dear Noce," said the lady, most affectionately, "how well you are looking! I am delighted to see you." "I do not doubt it," said Noce "for I have to inform you that your petition is granted; your husband will have the place." "Oh, how eternally grateful I am to you!" cried the lady, in an ecstasy; "my poor, dear husband will be so rejoiced. I wish I had wings to fly to him!"
Can you guess why he likes her? Nay, never take the trouble of thinking: I will tell you at once; simply because she eats and drinks so much. /Parole d'honneur/, 'tis true. The Regent says he likes sympathy in all things! is it not droll? What a hideous old man is that Noce: his face looks as if it had caught the rainbow.
The gallant Noce uttered a compliment; I thought myself /de trop/, and moved away. I again encountered Chatran. "I overheard your conversation with Madame la Marquise," said he, smiling: "she has a bitter tongue; has she not?" "Very! how she abused the poor rogue Noce!" "Yes, and yet he is her lover!"
"Where do you come from with your fast-day face? Is not to-day Sunday?" "Yes, monseigneur." "Well, then, come back to us; here is the list of the guests. Nocé, Lafare, Fargy, Ravanne, Broglie; I do not invite Brancas: he has been wearisome for some days. I think he must be conspiring.
It is dark in the wagonette, and not so merry as it might have been. The coachman loses the road. So-and-so tries to light fireworks with the most indifferent success. Some sing, but the rest are too weary to applaud; and it seems as if the festival were fairly at an end "Nous avons fait la noce, Rentrons
It was Madame Poulard who then would bring us news of the party; at the end of a fortnight, Charm and I felt ourselves to be in possession of the hidden and secret reasons for all the marrying that had been done along the coast, that year. "Tiens, ce n'est pas gai, la noce! I must learn the reason!"
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