"Baron," said Jacquemin Lampourde, calmly, "permit me, I humbly pray
you, to be henceforth, so long as I live, your devoted admirer, your
slave, your dog! I was to be paid for killing you--I even received a
portion of the money in advance, which I have spent. But never mind
that; I will pay it back, every penny of it, though I must rob some one
else to do it."
With these words he picked up de Sigognac's cloak, and having put it
carefully, even reverentially, over his shoulders, made him a profound
obeisance, and departed.
Thus the efforts of the Duke of Vallombreuse, to advance his suit and to
get rid of his rival, had once more failed ignominiously.
CHAPTER XIV. LAMPOURDE'S DELICACY
It is easy to imagine the frame of mind in which the Duke of
Vallombreuse returned home after his repulse by Isabelle, and her rescue
from his arms by the timely intervention of her friends, the comedians.
At sight of his face, fairly livid and contorted with suppressed rage,
his servants trembled and shrunk away from him--as well they might--for
his natural cruelty was apt to vent itself upon the first unhappy
dependent that happened to come in his way when his wrath was excited.
He was not an easy master to serve, even in his most genial mood--this
haughty, exacting young nobleman--and in his frantic fits of anger he
was more savage and relentless than a half-starved tiger.
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