Page:Man Who Laughs (Estes and Lauriat 1869) v2.djvu/64

44 attendance on a very great lady. The lackey is a part of his lord, and one could hardly fail to notice this train-bearing page in the shadow of his mistress. Memory often takes notes unconsciously; and, without Gwynplaine's suspecting it, the round cheeks, the serious mien, the embroidered and plumed cap of the lady's page left some trace upon his mind. The page, however, did nothing to call attention to himself. To do so is to be wanting in respect. He held himself aloof and passive at the back of the box, retiring as far as the closed door permitted. Notwithstanding the presence of her train-bearer, the lady was not the less alone in the compartment, since a valet counts for nothing.

Powerful as was the diversion created by this great personage, the dénouement of "Chaos Vanquished" proved more powerful still. The impression which it made was, as usual, irresistible. Perhaps there was even an increase of magnetic attraction in the hall by reason of the radiant spectator, for not infrequently the spectator forms a part of the spectacle. The contagion of Gwynplaine's laugh was more triumphant than ever. The whole audience relapsed into an indescribable fit of hilarity, through which could be distinguished the sonorous and magisterial ha! ha! of Tom-Jim-Jack. The unknown lady alone gazed at the performance with the immobility of a statue; even with her eyes, which were like those of a phantom, she smiled not. A spectre, but sun-born.

The performance over, the platform drawn up, and the family reassembled in the Green Box, Ursus opened and emptied on the supper-table the bag of receipts. From a heap of pennies there slid suddenly forth a Spanish gold onza.

"Hers!" cried Ursus.