The jests were coarse
and vulgar, and the women laughed over them as heartily as the men.
Modesty and morality were not among the red man's immediate obligations.
The Chevalier devoted his time to dreaming. It was an occupation which
all shared in, as it took them mentally away from their surroundings.
He conjured up faces from the sparkle of the fire. He could see the
Rubens above the mantel at the hotel in Rochelle, the assembly at the
Candlestick, the guardroom at the Louvre, the kitchens along the quays,
or the cabarets in the suburbs. A camp song rises above the clinking
of the bottles and glasses; a wench slaps a cornet's face for a
pilfered kiss; a drunken guardsman quarrels over an unduly heavy die.
"Count," said the vicomte to D'Herouville, "did you ever reckon what
you should do with those ten thousand livres which you were to receive
for that paper of signatures?"
At any other time this remark would have interested Victor.
D'Herouville, having concentrated his gaze upon the ragged soles of his
boots, saw no reason why he should withdraw it. He was weary of the
vicomte's banter. All he wanted was a sword and a clear sweep, with
this man opposing him.
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