A French Comedy ~ Act 5 ~ The Rescue

When the curtain fell at last, there was the general muffled hubbub of several hundreds of people preparing to move en-masse.

Marguerite paid little heed to the noise, and even less to the fact that this night it had taken nine curtain calls for the crowd to be satisfied.

What mattered it? She was a successful actress. The people loved her. The Green Room would be full, and Louis would no doubt try to claim a place by her side.

These thoughts were hardly unusual - she barely registered thinking them. A totally different subject was completely occupying her mind.

After a brief visit to her dressing room, in which she expertly whipped off her mask of grease paint, she tripped swiftly through the corridors at the base of the Theatre and came running into the courtyard of l'Odeon. A few quick exchanges with guards and footmen secured her what she wanted, and after settling herself where she needed to be, for one brief minute, she allowed herself to breathe.

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Sir Percy and Sir Andrew had left the St. Cyr box together. Andrew was, at least outwardly, totally unaware of his friend's epiphany in re Mlle. St. Just, and the St. Cyr's themselves showed nothing but dissipated approval for the play as an evening's entertainment.

Just as well. The walls around Blakeney's heart had gone up again. There would be no foolish or impetuous acts tonight.

Sir Percy called for his carriage, and the Marquis quite gallantly invited both Blakeney and Ffoulkes for late supper at Chalais Bon, a restaurant just down the Boulevard. Sir Percy saw Andrew almost interrupt, and bluntly accept for them, but Sir Percy was aware of the needs of his friend - indeed, he shared them - and so it was arranged that that the party would remain together - for the moment, at the least.

Then they saw Hayes, Sir Percy's coachman, draw the horses alongside, and then Bradly, the footman, took hold of the carriage door handle, as the gentlemen advanced toward the waiting vehicle.

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The door opened, and in a moment, the very object of her attention stood - or rather sat - in front of her.

"You are Sir Percy Blakeney, I believe?" Marguerite asked, in quite a normal voice.

Sir Percy concealed his shock well, but his friend was another matter.

"Wh. . . who are you? And how did. . . " he stammered out, until Sir Percy stopped him with a gesture.

Sir Percy then raised his eye-glass, bemusedly. "You are, of course, correct, dear lady," he said evenly, "And may I assume that you are the charming and beautiful Mademoiselle St. Just whom we have just had the honour of watching tread the boards?"

She smiled quite unaffectedly. "Yes, indeed, good sirs," she laughed, "At least, that is my name. . ." She offered her hand to Sir Percy, "I apologize for my unconventional method of introduction, but you would be amazed at how difficult it is for me to obtain any privacy whatever."

There was little room in the carriage, but Sir Percy gallantly took her fingers and half bowed over them. "I have the feeling, Mademoiselle," he said, "that I would be amazed at anything you manage to do."

She laughed sweetly. "And by the same token, it is positively astounding what I can get away with when I want to." She looked both at Sir Percy and his friend, "You see, I wanted to talk to you privately, so I merely asked which coach was yours, then asked the coachman to let me wait inside it, and when you came, to take us once around the courtyard. I only have a minute before I am missed." She swiftly looked out of the carriage windows, "So, I must be brief." Her voice became quite pleasantly coaxing. "Sir Percy, it seems that you and I - though we have never before met - are in something of a competition with each other. That is, all of Paris has plotted and contrived to force a meeting between us - hoping, no doubt, for such a clashing of minds that would set tongues wagging all the way to Orleans!"

"No doubt," said Sir Percy, calmly. His friend said nothing - he was only staring.

"Yes," Marguerite continued, "And I would like to quell these schemes once and for all. In a word, would you and your present company like to join me at my salon this evening?" She paused a trifle, "Let us prove to all, that brilliance - in all its forms - is a harbinger of kinship."

"Dear lady," said Sir Percy humbly, "That is the most sought after invitation in all of Paris, and thus, most of France. I would be a fool indeed to refuse you, but we are seven in our present company, are we not too many for your rooms?"

She laughed again, "No indeed, Sir Percy. Seven is but a trifle." She smiled her most charming smile at them. "So then, I might expect you at half past ten this evening?"

"You may, Mademoiselle." Sir Percy was very gallant.

The coach began to come to a stop - back where it began - and Marguerite turned to open the door and alight. Almost as an afterthought, she turned back to the still slightly stunned men, "And, if anyone asks you," she said, "you may tell them that I have personally invited you. That will be enough." Then she stepped lightly out of the coach before either of the men could raise a hand to aid her, and walked quite happily back to her dressing room.

"And that," she said to herself with satisfaction, "will fix you, Louis."