Canalis had moreover laid himself open in a special way to the bourgeois eyes that were watching him.  For two or three days he had shown signs of impatience; he had given way to depression, to states of melancholy without apparent reason, to those capricious changes of temper which are the natural results of the nervous temperament of poets.  These originalities (we use the provincial word) came from the uneasiness that his conduct toward the Duchesse de Chaulieu which grew daily less explainable, caused him.  He knew he ought to write to her, but could not resolve on doing so.  All these fluctuations were carefully remarked and commented on by the gentle American, and the excellent Madame Latournelle, and they formed the topic of many a discussion between these two ladies and Madame Mignon.  Canalis felt the effects of these discussions without being able to explain them.  The attention paid to him was not the same, the faces surrounding him no longer wore the entranced look of the earlier days; while at the same time Ernest was evidently gaining ground.

For the last two days the poet had endeavored to fascinate Modeste only, and he took advantage of every moment when he found himself alone with her, to weave the web of passionate language around his love.  Modeste’s blush, as she listened to him on the occasion we have just mentioned, showed the demoiselles d’Herouville the pleasure with which she was listening to sweet conceits that were sweetly said; and they, horribly uneasy at the sight, had immediate recourse to the “ultima ratio” of women in such cases, namely, those calumnies which seldom miss their object.  Accordingly, when the party met at the dinner-table the poet saw a cloud on the brow of his idol; he knew that Mademoiselle d’Herouville’s malignity allowed him to lose no time, and he resolved to offer himself as a husband at the first moment when he could find himself alone with Modeste.

Overhearing a few acid though polite remarks exchanged between the poet and the two noble ladies, Gobenheim nudged Butscha with his elbow, and said in an undertone, motioning towards the poet and the grand equerry,—­

“They’ll demolish one another!”

“Canalis has genius enough to demolish himself all alone,” answered the dwarf.

CHAPTER XXII

A RIDDLE GUESSED

During the dinner, which was magnificent and admirably well served, the duke obtained a signal advantage over Canalis.  Modeste, who had received her habit and other equestrian equipments the night before, spoke of taking rides about the country.  A turn of the conversation led her to express the wish to see a hunt with hounds, a pleasure she had never yet enjoyed.  The duke at once proposed to arrange a hunt in one of the crown forests, which lay a few leagues from Havre.  Thanks to his intimacy with the Prince de Cadignan, Master of the Hunt, he saw his chance of displaying an almost regal pomp before