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"Good-bye, and good luck to you, Zerbine," cried the comedians heartily, one and all; save only Serafina, who was more furiously angry with her than ever. "This is an unfortunate thing for us," said the tyrant regretfully, "a serious loss.
In effect, after a very few minutes the chariot was seen approaching, and presently rolled into the open space. Zerbine, who sat in front, glanced composedly at the little group of men and mules standing there, without betraying any surprise at seeing them.
"I see that you two are just the same good old souls as ever, and that you have missed your little Zerbine." Several servants now came in, carrying trunks, boxes, portmanteaus, packages, no end of baggage, which Zerbine counted over and found correct; and when they had gone she opened two or three of the larger chests with the keys she had on a small silver ring.
Zerbine shook out her skirts, adjusted her wraps, and then, turning towards the comedians, delivered this little harangue: "My dear comrades, I pray you pardon me for quitting you in this unceremonious manner.
"The marquis is here," she managed to whisper to Blazius, who was playing Pandolphe; "just look at him! how delighted he is, and how he applauds me till he is actually red in the face, the dear man! So he admires my acting, does he? Well, he shall have a spicy specimen of it, then." Zerbine kept her word, and, from that on to the end of the piece, played with redoubled spirit.
Leander and Zerbine were both rather late in rising, and the last to make their appearance the former with a doleful countenance, despite his best efforts to conceal his sufferings under a cheerful exterior, the latter beaming with satisfaction, and with smiles for everybody.
Yet he is a splendid young nobleman-handsome, wealthy, amiable, and not wanting in wit." "Oh! I haven't given him up; very far from it," Zerbine replied, with a saucy smile. "I shall guard him carefully, as the most precious gem in my casket. Though I have quitted him for the moment, he will shortly follow me."
The tyrant dwelt upon the bountiful supply of pistoles he had received; the pedant upon the capital wines of which he had drunk his fill; Matamore upon the enthusiastic applause that had been lavished upon him by that aristocratic audience; Zerbine upon the pieces of rich silk, the golden necklaces and other like treasures with which her chest was replete no wonder that it was heavy while de Sigognac and Isabelle, thinking only of each other, and happy in being together, did not even turn their heads for one last glimpse of the handsome Chateau de Bruyere.
The baron accordingly sat down in the arm-chair rolled up for him by the servant, beside Zerbine and opposite the marquis, who helped him to some of the partridge he had been carving, and filled his wine-glass for him; all without asking any questions as to what brought him there, or even hinting at it.
Zerbine loudly swears that this marriage shall never take place, and tries to console her weeping mistress.
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