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The Regent's Daughter
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"Well, while Lafare pretended to eat a bad supper, which was served by waiters who called him Excellency, monseigneur gave his horse to a page and went to a little pavilion."
"Demon, where were you hidden?"
"I, monseigneur, have not left the Palais Royal, where I slept like a dormouse, and the proof is, that I am telling you my dream."
"And what was there in the pavilion?"
"First, at the door, a horrible duenna, tall, thin, dry, and yellow."
"Dubois, I will recommend you to Desroches, and the first time she sees you, she will tear your eyes out."
"Then inside, mon Dieu! inside."
"You could not see that, even in a dream, abbe."
"Monseigneur, you may take away the 300,000 francs which you allow me for my secret police, if – by their aid – I did not see into the interior."
"Well, what did you see?"
"Ma foi, monseigneur, a charming little Bretonne, sixteen or seventeen years old, beautiful, coming direct from the Augustine convent at Clisson, accompanied to Rambouillet by one of the sisters, whose troublesome presence was soon dispensed with, was it not?"
"Dubois, I have often thought you were the devil, who has taken the form of an abbe to ruin me."
"To save you, monseigneur, to save you."
"To save me; I do not believe it."
"Well," said Dubois, "are you pleased with her?"
"Enchanted, Dubois; she is charming."
"Well, you have brought her from so far, that if she were not, you would be quite cheated."
The regent frowned, but, reflecting that probably Dubois did not know the rest, the frown changed to a smile.
"Dubois," said he, "certainly, you are a great man."
"Ah, monseigneur, no one but you doubts it, and yet you disgrace me – "
"Disgrace you!"
"Yes, you hide your loves from me."
"Come, do not be vexed, Dubois."
"There is reason, however, you must confess, monseigneur."
"Why?"
"Why did you not tell me you wanted a Bretonne. Could not I have sent for one?"
"Yes."
"Yes, of course I could."
"As good?"
"Yes, and better. You think you have found a treasure, perhaps?"
"Hola, hola!"
"Well, when you know what she is, and to what you expose yourself."
"Do not jest, abbe, I beg."
"Ah! monseigneur, you distress me."
"What do you mean?"
"That you are taken by a glance, a single night fascinates you, and there is no one to compare to the new comer. Is she then very pretty?"
"Charming."
"And discreet: virtue itself, I suppose."
"You are right."
"Well, I tell you, monseigneur, you are lost."
"I?"
"Yes; your Bretonne is a jade."
"Silence, abbe."
"Why silence?"
"I forbid you to say another word."
"Monseigneur, you, too, have had a dream – let me explain it."
"Monsieur Joseph, I will send you to the Bastille."
"As you please, monseigneur, but still you must know that this girl – "
"Is my daughter, abbe."
Dubois drew back stupefied.
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