THE NABOB. 39 room was heard the crackling of the wood in the hearth, the rustling of papers feverishly turned, the indolent voice of the Duke, indicat- ing bv a word, always precise and clear, the answer to be returned to a letter of four pages, and the respectful monosyllables of the secre- tarv "Yes, Monsieur le Ministre — JNo, Monsieur le Ministre;" then the scratching of the rebellious and heavy pen Outside, the swallows twittered their joyful note over the surface of the water, and a clarionet played in the direction of the bridges " It is impossible," said the Minister of State, rising all at once; " take that away, Lartigues, and come back to-morrow. I cannot write. 1 am too cold. Look here, Doctor; feel my hands- they are as cold as if I had dipped them in"a pail of ice-water. For the last two days my body has been like this. It is ridicu- lous in such fine weather!" "I am not astonished," mumbled the Irish- man, in a sharp tone of bad humor, not usual with that mellifluous gentleman. The door had closed behind the young secre- tary, who went away with majestic stiffness, but 'very happy, I should fancy, to feel at lib- erty and be able, before returning to the Min- istry to have a couple of hours' stroll in the Tuileries, full of spring toiles and' pretty girls, who sat on some of the rows of chairs, under the chestnut-trees in bloom, along which from their roots to their summits ran the great shiver of the month of May. He was not f rc*en, the secretary, you may be sure! Jenkins examined his patient in silence, aus- cultated him; then, with a gruff voice, which might possibly be accounted for by his anxious devotion, his irritation on finding that his pre- scription had not been attended to : "Come, my dear Duke," said he, "tell me one thing: what sort of life have you been lead- ing lately?" He knew from the talk of the servants—for he was not above speaking with them in the houses of his regular patients—he knew that the Duke had formed a new liaison, that his fresh 'caprice overmastered and agitated him extremely. That knowledge, together with some remarks he had made elsewhere, racked Jenkins's mind with suspicion, and inspired him with a mad desire to know the name of the lady. That is what he was trying to read on the pale brow of his patient, searching his thoughts rather than inquiring into his ail- ments. But he had to deal with the inscruta- ble face of a Don Juan, as hermetically closed as a spring-box, wherein are kept women's mementoes and letters. Mora's discretion was locked with the cold-steel look of his blue eyes, against which the most cunning perspicac- ity was powerless. "You are mistaken, Doctor," answered His Grace, quietly; " I have not changed anything in my habits." "Well! then, Monsieur le Duc, you were quite wrong," said the Irishman, roughly, mad at not having discovered anything. But feeling immediately that he had gone too far, he hastened to dilute his bad humor and the severity of his diagnostic in a ptisan of commonplace sentences and axioms. "It was necessary to be careful—medicine was not magic--the power of Jenkins's pearls had a limit in human strength, the requirements of age, and the resources of nature, which, unfort- unately, are not inexhaustible------" and so on. The Duke interrupted him sharply: ' ' Look here, Jenkins, you know very well that I hate phrases. There is something wrong with me, is there? What is the matter, then? Why am I so cold?" "It is anasmia, exhaustion—a want of oil in the lamp." "What must I do?" " Nothing. You require absolute rest from business. You must eat and sleep; nothing more. You should go and pass a few weeks at Grandbois." Mora shrugged his shoulders. ' ' And the Chamber, and the Council, and------ Nonsense, it is not possible!" " I tell you, you must put the drag on; must give up absolutely------" He was interrupted by the usher in attend- ance, who came discreetly on tip-toe, like a danc- ing master, to give a letter and a card to the Minister, still shivering before the fire. When the Doctor saw that gray-satined envelope, of a fanciful shape, he was unable to restrain a start ; but the Duke, having opened and perused the letter, rose quite briskly, his cheeks slightly flushed with the colors of fictitious health, which all the fire in the hearth had failed to give him. () " My dear Doctor, at any cost you must------ The usher stood waiting. "What do you want? Ah, yes, this card Show the person into the gallery. I am coming. " The Duke de Mora's gallery—opened twice a week to visitors—was for him neutral ground, a sort of puplic thoroughfare, where he might see any one without compromising or commit- ting himself. When the usher had left: " Jenkins, my good fellow," said His Grace, " you have already done miracles for me. You must work another. Double the dose of my pearls, invent something, anything. But I must be strong and sprightly on Sunday next. You hear, quite strong and sprightly." And his fingers—warmed with the fire of fever—clenched the little letter with the agita- tion of lustful desire. ' ' Take care, Monsieur le Duc," said Jenkins, very pale, with tightened lips; "I do not wish to alarm you too much on the state of your health, but my duty compels me An insolent smile curled the Duke's lips: "Your duty and my pleasure are two very different things, my good fellow. Let me waste my life if it amuses me. I never had a finer opportunity than now." He started. The Duchess! A door behind a tapestry had just opened, and a pretty little foolish head, fair and ruffled, showed itself wrapped in the lace and fringes of a princly morning dress: "What do I hear?" said she. "You have not been out? Scold him, Doctor. Tell him he is wrong to indulge so. Look at him, he looks the. picture of health !" "You see," said the Duke, laughing, to the Irishman. " Don't you come in, Duchess?" "No, I am taking you with me, on the contrary. My uncle d'Estaing has sent me a cageful of birds from the West Indies, and I wish to show them to you. They are real wonders, of all colors, with little eyes like black pearls, and as chilly as you are." " Let us go and have a look at them," said the Minister. "Wait for me here, Jenkins. I shall be back in a few minutes." Then, noticing that he was still holding his letter in his hand, he threw it carelessly into the drawer of his little lacquer table, and fol- lowed the Duchess with that fine sang-froid of a husband accustomed to those evolutions. What a prodigious artist, what an incom- parable architect, must He have been who gave the human face the suppleness of its muscles and its marvelous elasticity! It is impossible to conceive anything better acted than that grand-seigneur's face, surprised with his adultery on his lips, his cheeks flushed by the picture of expected volupties, instantly calmed down into the serenity of conjugal affection; nor is it pos- sible to imagine anything finer than the sanc- timonious obsequios'ity, the paternal smile of Jenkins—a very Franklin in the presence ofthe Duchess—suddenly changing, when he found himself alone, into a wild expression of anger and hatred, the ashy paleness of one who con- ceives a crime, the paleness of a Castaing, or of a Lapommeraie, revolving in his mind his sinis- fpi* "fplonips He cast a rapid look on each of the two doors, and, instantly, he found himself before the drawer full of precious papers—the gold key was ever left in the lock with that careless insolence which seemed to say : " No one would dare." Well! Jenkins did dare at all events. The letter he wanted was there, first of all, lying on a heap of others. The texture of the paper, the short direc- tion written with a simple, bold hand, and then the perfume, that inebriating, conjuring perfume, the very breath of her divine mouth! It was all true, then. His jealous love had not misled him. He had put the right inter- pretation on that embarrassment visible for some time past whenever he happened to be there, on those reticent whispers and would-be young looks of Constance, on those splendid bouquets of fullblown flowers, which were in the studio as if in the mysterious shadow of her shame ! That indomitable pride had surrendered then? But why not to him, Jenkins? He, at all events, had loved her long, loved her ten years—he was ten years younger than the other, too, and you may be sure, he_ did not tremble. All those thoughts crossed his mind, like arrows shot from an indefatigable bow. And wound- ed, torn to tatters, his eyes blinded with the rush of blood, he stood there, looking at that cold little silky envelope, which he dared not open lest his last doubt should vanish ; when, suddenly, the rustling sound of a hanging warn-, ing him that somebody wras coming, he threw, the letter quickly back again, and shut the marvelously fitting drawer of the lacquered table. "Hallo! Is that you, Jansoulet? How did you come here?" "His Grace told me to wait for him in his room," answered the Nabob, very proud of being introduced into the inner apartments, like a familiar friend, at a time, too, when the Duke denied himself to others. The fact is, the Duke was beginning to feel real sympathy for that savage, and that for various reasons: First of all, he liked bold, daring, lucky adventurers. Was he not one-such himself? Then the Nabob amused him; his brogue, his free and easy manners, his off-hand and impudent flattery, were a relief to the eternal conven- tionalities of his entourage—that administrative and stilted scourge which he absolutely hated, as he hated their verbosity. Indeed, his dread of mere words went so far that he himself hardly ever finished his sentences. But the Nabob ended his own phrases with such curious, startling effect—it was truly refreshing. He was, moreover, a splendid card-player, and could, without wincing, lose at the Rue Royale Club, five thousand francs on one point at écarte. Another of his good points was that he was always ready to buy any of the Duke's pictures which His Grace wished to part from, at His Grace's own price. To those various grounds of sympathy must be added another and nobler one, viz., a feeling of pity and indignation which he had lately felt on witnessing the eager- ness with which his enemies persecuted that un- fortunate man; the cowardly and merciless war, so skillfully waged that public opinion, ever credulous and sniffing at the wind, was be- ginning to be seriously influenced. We must do Mora the justice to say that he never follow-, ed after the crowd. On finding in some corner of his house the pitiful and troubled face of the Nabob, he thought it cowardly of him to receive the man in a corner, and therefore invited him to go up-stairs and wait for him in his room. Jenkins and Jansoulet, rather embarrassed on finding themselves face to face, exchanged a few commonplace words. Their great friend- ship had cooled considerably for some time past, because Jansoulet had flatly refused a new sub- sidy in support of Bethlehem, leaving the affair on the hands of the Irishman, whom this defec- tion had greatly enraged ; but what made him still more furious, just now, was that he had not had time to open 'Felicia's letter before the ar- rival of the intruder. On the other hand, the Nabob was anxiously asking himself whether the Doctor intended to be present at the con- versation which he was about to have with the Duke, respecting the infamous allusions with wliich the Messager harassed him; for he wish- ed to ascertain whether slander had not cooled that priceless kindness of the Minister, wliich was so necessary to him, now that his election was being inquired into by the Chamber. The reception he had met with in the gallery had half tranquillized him; but when the Duke came in, walked straight up to him with his out- stretched hand, his mind was at once set at rest on that point. " Well, my poor Jansoulet, Paris bids you a sorry welcome. What anger and hatred you have stirred, what row------" "Ah! Monsieur le Duc, if you knew------ "I know, I read------" said the Minister, ap- proaching the fire. "I hope your Grace does not believe that infamous libel. Besides, I have here — I bring------" With his big, hairy hands, trem- bling with emotion, he searched among his pa- pers, in an enormous portfolio which he ,held under his arm. " Never mind, never mind! I know all that. I know that, willfully or otherwise, they con- found you with another person, whom family considerations L y . Seeing the wild astonishment of the Nabob, who stood stupefied to find him so well informed, the Duke added, with a smile : "A State Minister must know everything.