The Princess Of Bagdad Part 12

Then the countess is daughter of a prince?

G.o.dLER.

Daughter of a king, even--for the prince succeeded his father.

TReVELe.

What a strange country!

G.o.dLER.

Daughter of a king and of an adventuress; daughter herself of no one knows who. From that comes, no doubt, the strangeness in the nature of Lionnette, whom we, who know the circ.u.mstances, named, when she was very young, the Princess of Bagdad. People never knew what it meant, but it is useless for all the world to know what some things mean.

TReVELe.

And the mother, the Marchioness of Quansas, has she seen the king again since that adventure?

G.o.dLER.

Often, and for several years. Thence comes the great luxury and style of the house. But she became so badly-conducted, and abused so much the goodness of the king to her, that he--himself now become father of a large family, as everything led to hope after his return from Paris, and the marchioness no longer being young--lost all patience, and gave no more money, except to his daughter, whom he adored, and whom he saw in secret. But he died quite suddenly.

TReVELe.

I know whom you mean.

G.o.dLER.

Then we both know it, that is sufficient. After the death of the king all the resources disappeared. Fortunately, the love and marriage of our friend John de Hun were found in the nick of time, to maintain for some time the importance of the house; but at this moment I think the downfall is not far off, and all these comings and goings of to-day may very well be the last signs of it. All the legitimate ways are exhausted; there remains nothing now but the others.

TReVELe.

Which are happily the most numerous. It costs too much for us, my poor old G.o.dler. For the present it is just the affair of the gloomy millionaire: we shall see later on. There is nothing more to drink; they have quite forgotten us. Put your comb in your pocket again, your lock of hair is very well like that; now let us go away. A peculiar kind of a house. Where is my hat?

(_While they both look for their hats, their backs turned to the bottom of the room_, JOHN _enters, very pale, and visibly affected_.)

SCENE IV.

THE SAME PERSONS, JOHN.

JOHN.

I beg your pardon, gentlemen, for having left you so long alone in my house, but I have been suddenly called away. I reckoned upon being back sooner. And....

(_He draws his hand across his forehead._)

G.o.dLER.

You are suffering much?

JOHN.

It is nothing.... A little fatigue, it is very warm.

TReVELe.

We are going away.

JOHN.

However, it may be that I shall stand in need of two sure friends. Can I count upon you?

TReVELe (_aside_).

Nourvady was right.

G.o.dLER.

Certainly; we shall breakfast, Trevele and I, to-morrow at 12 o'clock at the club. If you have anything to say to us.

JOHN.

Thank you. Till to-morrow then.

G.o.dLER (_aside, as he goes out_).

Poor fellow.

TReVELe (_aside, as he goes out_).

The weather is getting stormy, as the sailors say.

SCENE V.

JOHN _alone at first, afterwards_ LIONNETTE.

JOHN, _standing alone, lays his hand on the top of a chair; then he pulls off his cravat and loosens the collar of his s.h.i.+rt, as if he were suffocating and wished to breathe more freely. He goes at length to the window, breathes the air strongly two or three times, and walks towards the door by which_ LIONNETTE _went out_: LIONNETTE _enters by the same door when he is half-way towards it_.

JOHN (_standing still_).

Where have you come from?

LIONNETTE.

I have just come from putting the child to bed, who was very disobedient this evening, and I came back to find the gentlemen again.

JOHN.