"And what do you think I may expect, madame?" asked Jeanne.
"Doubtless a pension for yourself, and advancement for M. de la Motte, if he prove worthy of it."
"My husband is an honorable man, madame, and has never failed in his military duties."
"It is enough, madame," said the lady, drawing her hood still more over her face. She then put her hand in her pocket, and drew out first the same embroidered handkerchief with which we before saw her hiding her face when in the sledge, then a small roll about an inch in diameter, and three or four in length, which she placed on the chiffonier, saying, "The treasurer of our charity authorizes me, madame, to offer you this small assistance, until you shall obtain something better."
Madame de la Motte threw a rapid glance at the little roll. "Three-franc pieces," thought she, "and there must be nearly a hundred of them; what a boon from heaven."
While she was thus thinking, the two ladies moved quickly into the outer room, where Clotilde had fallen asleep in her chair.
The candle was burning out in the socket, and the smell which came from it made the ladies draw out their smelling-bottles. Jeanne woke Clotilde, who insisted on following them with the obnoxious candle-end.
"Au revoir, Madame la Comtesse," said they.
"Where may I have the honor of coming to thank you?" asked Jeanne.
"We will let you know," replied the elder lady, going quickly down the stairs.
Madame de la Motte ran back into her room, impatient to examine her rouleau, but her foot struck against something, and stooping to pick it up, she saw a small flat gold box.
She was some time before she could open it, but having at last found the spring, it flew open and disclosed the portrait of a lady possessing no small beauty. The coiffure was German, and she wore a collar like an order. An M and a T encircled by a laurel wreath ornamented the inside of the box. Madame de la Motte did not doubt, from the resemblance of the portrait to the lady who had just left her, that it was that of her mother, or some near relation.
She ran to the stairs to give it back to them; but hearing the street-door shut, she ran back, thinking to call them from the window, but arrived there only in time to see a cabriolet driving rapidly away. She was therefore obliged to keep the box for the present, and turned again to the little rouleau.
When she opened it, she uttered a cry of joy, "Double louis, fifty double louis, two thousand and four hundred francs!" and transported at the sight of more gold than she had ever seen before in her life, she remained with clasped hands and open lips. "A hundred louis," she repeated; "these ladies are then very rich. Oh! I will find them again."
CHAPTER IV.
BELUS.
Madame de la Motte was not wrong in thinking that the cabriolet which she saw driving off contained the two ladies who had just left her.
They had, in fact, found it waiting for them on their exit. It was lightly built, open and fashionable, with high wheels, and a place behind for a servant to stand. It was drawn by a magnificent bay horse of Irish breed, short-tailed, and plump, which was driven by the same man whom we have already heard addressed by the name of Weber. The horse had become so impatient with waiting, that it was with some difficulty that Weber kept him stationary.
When he saw the ladies, he said, "Madame, I intended to bring Scipio, who is gentle and easy to manage, but unluckily he received an injury last evening, and I was forced to bring Bélus, and he is rather unmanageable."
"Oh, Weber, I do not mind in the least," said the lady; "I am well used to driving, and not at all timid."
"I know how well madame drives, but the roads are so bad. Where are we to go?"
"To Versailles."
"By the boulevards then, madame?"
"No, Weber; it freezes hard, and the boulevards will be dreadful; the streets will be better."
He held the horse for the ladies to get in, then jumped up behind, and they set off at a rapid pace.
"Well, Andrée, what do you think of the countess?" asked the elder lady.
"I think, madame," she replied, "that Madame de la Motte is poor and unfortunate."
"She has good manners, has she not?"
"Yes, doubtless."
"You are somewhat cold about her, Andrée."
"I must confess, there is a look of cunning in her face that does not please me."
"Oh, you are always difficult to please, Andrée; to please you, one must have every good quality. Now, I find the little countess interesting and simple, both in her pride and in her humility."
"It is fortunate for her, madame, that she has succeeded in pleasing you."
"Take care!" cried the lady, at the same time endeavoring to check her horse, which nearly ran over a street-porter at the corner of the Rue St. Antoine.
"Gare!" shouted Weber, in the voice of the Stentor.
They heard the man growling and swearing, in which he was joined by several people near, but Bélus soon carried them away from the sound, and they quickly reached the Place Baudoyer.
From thence the skilful conductress continued her rapid course down the Rue de la Tisseranderie, a narrow unaristocratic street, always crowded. Thus, in spite of the reiterated warnings of herself and Weber, the numbers began to increase around them, many of whom cried fiercely, "Oh! the cabriolet! down with the cabriolet!"
Bélus, however, guided by the steady hand which held the reins, kept on his rapid course, and not the smallest accident had yet occurred.
But in spite of this skilful progress, the people seemed discontented at the rapid course of the cabriolet, which certainly required some care on their part to avoid, and the lady, perhaps half frightened at the murmurs, and knowing the present excited state of the people, only urged on her horse the faster to escape from them.
Thus they proceeded until they reached the Rue du Coq St. Honoré, and here had been raised one of the most beautiful of those monuments in snow of which we have spoken.
Round this a great crowd had collected, and they were obliged to stop until the people would make an opening for them to pass, which they did at last, but with great grumbling and discontent.
The next obstacle was at the gates of the Palais Royal, where, in a courtyard, which had been thrown open, were a host of beggars crowding round fires which had been lighted there, and receiving soup, which the servants of M. le Duc d'Orleans were distributing to them in earthen basins; and as in Paris a crowd collects to see everything, the number of the spectators of this scene far exceeded that of the actors.
Here, then, they were again obliged to stop, and to their dismay, began to hear distinctly from behind loud cries of "Down with the cabriolet! down with those that crush the poor!"
"Can it be that those cries are addressed to us?" said the elder lady to her companion.
"Indeed, madame, I fear so," she replied.
"Have we, do you think, run over any one?"
"I am sure you have not."
But still the cries seemed to increase. A crowd soon gathered round them, and some even seized Bélus by the reins, who thereupon began to stamp and foam most furiously.
"To