Venetian Masque

In the representative when he was introduced Lallemant beheld a man above the middle height, prepossessing of countenance, slimly built but with a good width of shoulder, elegantly dressed in a long black coat above spotless buckskins and boots with reversed tops. He wore a very full white neckcloth, carried a bicorne hat tucked under his arm, and bore himself with an air of consequence and authority.

The ambassador scrutinized him searchingly as he rose to greet him.

'You are welcome, Citizen Lebel. We have been looking for your arrival since the last letters from the Citizen-Director Barras.'

The newcomer frowned. 'We?' he echoed. 'Do you say "we?" May one know whom you include in that pronoun?'

Lallemant was taken aback by the hard tone and the cold, hard glance of those light eyes in which he read displeasure and reproof. Resentment was to succeed his momentary confusion. But it was in this confusion that he answered.

'The pronoun? Oh! I but use it officially. A form of speech. So far no one shares with me the secret either that you were expected or that you have arrived.'

'You had better see that no one does,' was the dry injunction. 'I do not propose to be found one morning floating in one of these picturesque canals with a stiletto in my back.'

'I am sure you have no cause to be afraid of that.'

'I am not afraid of anything, citizen-ambassador. It is simply that the thing is not among my intentions.' He looked round for a chair, found one, thrust it nearer to the ambassador's writing-table, and sat down. 'Don't let me keep you standing,' he said, tone and manner plainly conveying that he accounted himself the master here. 'If you will look at this you will learn our exact relationship.'

He placed Barras' letter on the table before the ambassador.

That letter made abundantly clear the formidable authority with which Lebel was vested by the Directory. But it did not suffice to conquer the annoyance aroused in Lallemant by his visitor's hectoring manner.

'To be frank, citizen, I do not quite perceive what you are come to do that I could not have done. If you . . .'

He was interrupted by the abrupt opening of the door. A florid young man bounded impetuously into the room, speaking as he came.

'Citizen-ambassador, I am wondering whether you would like me to . . .' He broke off, perceiving the stranger, and presented every appearance of confusion. 'Oh, but my apologies! I thought you were alone. I . . . If . . . Perhaps . . . Oh, I will return later.'

Nevertheless, he did not depart. He remained swaying there, undecided, and all the while his eyes were very busy upon the visitor.

'Since you are here, what is it that you want, Domenico?'

'I should never have intruded if I had dreamed . . .'

'Yes, yes. You've said so. What do you want?'

'I was wondering whether you would allow me to take Jean with me as far as San Zuane. I am going to the . . .'

Lallemant cut him short. 'Of course you may take him. There was no need to break in on me for that.'

'Ah, but then you see, Madame Lallemant herself is not at home, and . . .'

'Oh, yes, yes. I've said that you may take him. To the devil with your explanations. You see that I am engaged. Be off.'

Mumbling excuses the young man backed away; and all the time his eyes continued to play over the visitor, from his fine boots to his sedulously dressed head.

When at last the door had closed upon him, Lallemant's lips were compressed into a little scornful smile. He glanced over his shoulder at an open doorway and a small room beyond.

'Before that interruption I was about to trouble you to accompany me in there. You were a little hasty in accommodating yourself, my friend.' He moved from the table, and waved a hand in the direction of that doorway, a tinge of sarcasm in his manner. 'If you please.'

Mystified, the visitor complied.

Lallemant left the communicating door open, so that from the inner room he commanded a view of the larger outer chamber. He advanced a chair, and explained himself.

'In here we shall be safe from eavesdroppers. It was not my intention that anything of importance should be said out there. That pleasant young man, so innocently concerned to take my son for a walk, is a spy placed in my house by the Council of Ten. By tonight the circumstance of your visit and a description of you will be in the hands of the inquisitors of state.'

'And you tolerate his presence? You leave him free of your house?'

'He has his uses. He runs messages for me. He helps to entertain my son. He makes himself pleasant to my wife, and frequently acts as an escort for her when she goes abroad. Also, since I am aware of his real trade, I take him into my confidence now and then, and disclose to him as political secrets just those matters which it suits me that the inquisitors of state should believe.'

'I see,' said Marc-Antoine, readjusting his ideas concerning this phlegmatic-looking ambassador. 'I see.'