"Admit him, admit him!" cried the Queen. "What can he want at this hour?"
The surgeon was instantly brought into the presence of the Queen by Mademoiselle de Hauteford; but, after approaching his royal mistress with a profound bow, he remained in silence glancing his eye towards the strangers who stood in the apartment, in such a manner as to intimate that his communication required to be made in private.
"Speak, speak, Seguin!" cried the Queen, translating his look and answering it at once; "these are all friends, old and dear friends."
"If such be your Majesty's pleasure," replied the Surgeon, with that sort of short dry voice, which generally denotes a man of few words. "I must inform you at once, that young Count de Blenau has been this morning attacked by robbers, while hunting in the forest, and is severely hurt."
While Seguin communicated this intelligence, Pauline (she scarce knew why) fixed her eye upon Mademoiselle de Hauteford, whose clear pale cheek, ever almost of the hue of alabaster, showed that it could become still paler. The Queen too, though the rouge she wore concealed any change of complexion, appeared manifestly agitated. "I told you so, De Beaumont," she exclaimed--"that blood foreboded evil: I never knew the sign to fail. This is bad news truly, Seguin," she continued. "Poor De Blenau! surely he will not die."
"I hope not, Madam," replied the Surgeon; "I see every chance of his recovery."
"But speak more freely," said the Queen. "Have you learnt any thing from him? These are all friends, I tell you."
"The Count is very weak, Madam," answered Seguin, "both from loss of blood and a stunning blow on the head; but he desired me to tell your Majesty, that though the wound is in his side, his heart is uninjured!"
"Oh, I understand, I understand," exclaimed the Queen. "De Blenau is one out of a thousand; I must write him a note; follow me, Seguin. Good night, dear Madame de Beaumont. Farewell, Pauline!--Come to my levee to-morrow, and we will talk over old stories and new hopes.--But have a care, Pauline--No more blood upon your robe. It is a bad sign in the house of Austria."
The moment the Queen was gone, Pauline pleaded fatigue, and retired to her chamber, followed by her maid Louise, who, be it remarked, had remained in the room during the Royal visit.