Ten Years Later HTML version

Chapter 6
The Courtyard of the Hotel Grammont.
On Malicorne's arrival at Orleans, he was informed that the Comte de Guiche had just
set out for Paris. Malicorne rested himself for a couple of hours, and then prepared to
continue his journey. He reached Paris during the night, and alighted at a small hotel,
where, in his previous journeys to the capital, he had been accustomed to put up, and at
eight o'clock the next morning presented himself at the Hotel Grammont. Malicorne
arrived just in time, for the Comte de Guiche was on the point of taking leave of
Monsieur before setting out for Le Havre, where the principal members of the French
nobility had gone to await Madame's arrival from England. Malicorne pronounced the
name of Manicamp, and was immediately admitted. He found the Comte de Guiche in
the courtyard of the Hotel Grammont, inspecting his horses, which his trainers and
equerries were passing in review before him. The count, in the presence of his
tradespeople and of his servants, was engaged in praising or blaming, as the case
seemed to deserve, the appointments, horses, and harness that were being submitted
to him; when, in the midst of this important occupation, the name of Manicamp was
"Manicamp!" he exclaimed; "let him enter by all means." And he advanced a few steps
toward the door.
Malicorne slipped through the half-open door, and looking at the Comte de Guiche, who
was surprised to see a face he did not recognize, instead of the one he expected, said:
"Forgive me, monsieur le comte, but I believe a mistake has been made. M. Manicamp
himself was announced to you, instead of which it is only an envoy from him."
"Ah!" exclaimed De Guiche, coldly; "and what do you bring me?"
"A letter, monsieur le comte." Malicorne handed him the first document, and narrowly
watched the count's face, who, as he read it, began to laugh.
"What!" he exclaimed, "another maid of honor? Are all the maids of honor in France,
then, under his protection?"
Malicorne bowed.
"Why does he not come himself?" he inquired.
"He is confined to his bed."
"The deuce! he has no money then, I suppose," said De Guiche, shrugging his
shoulders. "What does he do with his money?"