BOOK SEVENTH.
CHAPTER 1. THE DANGER OF CONFIDING ONE'S SECRET TO A GOAT.
(continued)
The captain, more and more embarrassed, fell back upon the
subject of the tapestry,--"'Tis, in sooth, a charming work!"
he exclaimed.
Whereupon Colombe de Gaillefontaine, another beautiful
blonde, with a white skin, dressed to the neck in blue damask,
ventured a timid remark which she addressed to Fleur-de-Lys,
in the hope that the handsome captain would reply to it, "My
dear Gondelaurier, have you seen the tapestries of the Hôtel
de la Roche-Guyon?"
"Is not that the hotel in which is enclosed the garden of
the Lingère du Louvre?" asked Diane de Christeuil with a
laugh; for she had handsome teeth, and consequently laughed
on every occasion.
"And where there is that big, old tower of the ancient
wall of Paris," added Amelotte de Montmichel, a pretty fresh
and curly-headed brunette, who had a habit of sighing just as
the other laughed, without knowing why.
"My dear Colombe," interpolated Dame Aloise, "do you
not mean the hotel which belonged to Monsieur de Bacqueville,
in the reign of King Charles VI.? there are indeed
many superb high warp tapestries there."
"Charles VI.! Charles VI.!" muttered the young captain,
twirling his moustache. "Good heavens! what old things
the good dame does remember!"
Madame de Gondelaurier continued, "Fine tapestries, in
truth. A work so esteemed that it passes as unrivalled."
At that moment Bérangère de Champchevrier, a slender
little maid of seven years, who was peering into the square
through the trefoils of the balcony, exclaimed, "Oh! look,
fair Godmother Fleur-de-Lys, at that pretty dancer who is
dancing on the pavement and playing the tambourine in the
midst of the loutish bourgeois!"
The sonorous vibration of a tambourine was, in fact, audible.
"Some gypsy from Bohemia," said Fleur-de-Lys, turning
carelessly toward the square.
|