The introduction of these two new personages into thishistory and that mysterious affinity of names andsentiments, merit some attention on the part of bothhistorian and reader. We will then enter into some detailsconcerning Messieurs Malicorne and Manicamp. Malicorne weknow, had made the journey to Orleans in search of thebrevet destined for Mademoiselle de Montalais, the arrivalof which had produced such a strong feeling at the castle ofBlois. At that moment, M. de Manicamp was at Orleans. Asingular person was this M. de Manicamp; a very intelligentyoung fellow, always poor, always needy, although he dippedhis hand freely into the purse of M. le Comte de Guiche, oneof the best furnished purses of the period. M. le Comte deGuiche had had, as the companion of his boyhood, this DeManicamp, a poor gentleman, vassal-born, of the house ofGrammont. M. de Manicamp, with his tact and talent, hadcreated himself a revenue in the opulent family of thecelebrated marechal. From his infancy he had, withcalculation beyond his age, lent his name and complaisanceto the follies of the Comte de Guiche. If his noblecompanion had stolen some fruit destined for Madame laMarechale, if he had broken a mirror, or put out a dog'seye, Manicamp declared himself guilty of the crimecommitted, and received the punishment, which was not madethe milder for falling on the innocent. But this was the waythis system of abnegation was paid for: instead of wearingsuch mean habiliments as his paternal fortunes entitled himto, he was able to appear brilliant, superb, like a youngnoble of fifty thousand livres a year. It was not that hewas mean in character or humble in spirit; no, he was aphilosopher, or rather he had the indifference, the apathy,the obstinacy which banish from man every sentiment of thesupernatural. His sole ambition was to spend money. But, inthis respect, the worthy M. de Manicamp was a gulf. Three orfour times every year he drained the Comte de Guiche, andwhen the Comte de Guiche was thoroughly drained, when he hadturned out his pockets and his purse before him, when hedeclared that it would be at least a fortnight beforepaternal munificence would refill those pockets and thatpurse, Manicamp lost all his energy, he went to bed,remained there, ate nothing and sold his handsome clothes,under the pretense that, remaining in bed, he did not wantthem. During this prostration of mind and strength, thepurse of the Comte de Guiche was getting full again, andwhen once filled, overflowed into that of De Manicamp, whobought new clothes, dressed himself again, and recommencedthe same life he had followed before. The mania of sellinghis new clothes for a quarter of what they were worth hadrendered our hero sufficiently celebrated in Orleans, a citywhere, in general, we should be puzzled to say why he cameto pass his days of penitence. Provincial debauches,petits-maitres of six hundred livres a year, shared thefragments of his opulence.

Among the admirers of these splendid toilettes, our friendMalicorne was conspicuous; he was the son of a syndic of thecity, of whom M. de Conde, always needy as a De Conde, oftenborrowed money at enormous interest. M. Malicorne kept thepaternal money-chest; that is to say, that in those times ofeasy morals, he had made for himself, by following theexample of his father, and lending at high interest forshort terms, a revenue of eighteen hundred livres, withoutreckoning six hundred livres furnished by the generosity ofthe syndic, so that Malicorne was the king of the gay youthof Orleans, having two thousand four hundred livres toscatter, squander, and waste on follies of every kind. But,quite contrary to Manicamp, Malicorne was terriblyambitious. He loved from ambition; he spent money out ofambition; and he would have ruined himself for ambition.Malicorne had determined to rise, at whatever price it mightcost, and for this, at whatever price it did cost, he hadgiven himself a mistress and a friend. The mistress,Mademoiselle de Montalais, was cruel as regarded love; butshe was of a noble family, and that was sufficient forMalicorne. The friend had little or no friendship, but hewas the favorite of the Comte de Guiche, himself the friendof Monsieur, the king's brother, and that was sufficient forMalicorne. Only, in the chapter of charges, Mademoiselle deMontalais cost per annum: - ribbons, gloves, and sweets, athousand livres. De Manicamp cost - money lent, neverreturned - from twelve to fifteen hundred livres per annum.So that there was nothing left for Malicorne. Ah! yes, weare mistaken; there was left the paternal strong box. Heemployed a mode of proceeding, upon which he preserved themost profound secrecy, and which consisted in advancing tohimself from the coffers of the syndic, half a dozen year'sprofits, that is to say, fifteen thousand livres, swearingto himself - observe, quite to himself - to repay thisdeficiency as soon as an opportunity should present itself.

The opportunity was expected to be the concession of a goodpost in the household of Monsieur, when that household wouldbe established at the period of his marriage. This juncturehad arrived, and the household was about to be established.A good post in the family of a prince of the blood, when itis given by the credit, and on the recommendation of afriend, like the Comte de Guiche, is worth at least twelvethousand livres per annum; and by the means which M.Malicorne had taken to make his revenues fructify, twelvethousand livres might rise to twenty thousand. Then, whenonce an incumbent of this post, he would marry Mademoisellede Montalais. Mademoiselle de Montalais, of a half noblefamily, not only would be dowered, but would ennobleMalicorne. But, in order that Mademoiselle de Montalais, whohad not a large patrimonial fortune, although an onlydaughter, should be suitably dowered, it was necessary thatshe should belong to some great princess, as prodigal as thedowager Madame was covetous. And in order that the wifeshould not be of one party whilst the husband belonged tothe other, a situation which presents seriousinconveniences, particularly with characters like those ofthe future consorts - Malicorne had imagined the idea ofmaking the central point of union the household of Monsieur,the king's brother. Mademoiselle de Montalais would be maidof honor to Madame. M. Malicorne would be officer toMonsieur.

It is plain the plan was formed by a clear head; it isplain, also, that it had been bravely executed. Malicornehad asked Manicamp to ask a brevet of maid of honor of theComte de Guiche; and the Comte de Guiche had asked thisbrevet of Monsieur, who had signed it without hesitation.The constructive plan of Malicorne - for we may wellsuppose that the combinations of a mind as active as hiswere not confined to the present, but extended to the future- the constructive plan of Malicorne, we say, was this: - To obtain entrance into the household of Madame Henriettafor a woman devoted to himself, who was intelligent, young,handsome, and intriguing; to learn, by means of this woman,all the feminine secrets of the young household, whilst he,Malicorne, and his friend Manicamp, should, between them,know all the male secrets of the young community. It was bythese means that a rapid and splendid fortune might beacquired at one and the same time. Malicorne was a vilename; he who bore it had too much wit to conceal this truthfrom himself; but an estate might be purchased; andMalicorne of some place, or even De Malicorne itself, forshort, would ring more nobly on the ear.

It was not improbable that a most aristocratic origin mightbe hunted up by the heralds for this name of Malicorne;might it not come from some estate where a bull with mortalhorns had caused some great misfortune, and baptized thesoil with the blood it had spilt? Certes, this planpresented itself bristling with difficulties: but thegreatest of all was Mademoiselle de Montalais herself.Capricious, variable, close, giddy, free, prudish, a virginarmed with claws, Erigone stained with grapes, she sometimesoverturned, with a single dash of her white fingers, or witha single puff from her laughing lips, the edifice which hadexhausted Malicorne's patience for a month.

Love apart, Malicorne was happy; but this love, which hecould not help feeling, he had the strength to conceal withcare; persuaded that at the lest relaxing of the ties bywhich he had bound his Protean female, the demon wouldoverthrow him and laugh at him. He humbled his mistress bydisdaining her. Burning with desire, when she advanced totempt him, he had the art to appear ice, persuaded that ifhe opened his arms, she would run away laughing at him. Onher side, Montalais believed she did not love Malicorne;whilst, on the contrary, in reality she did. Malicornerepeated to her so often his protestation of indifference,that she finished sometimes, by believing him; and then shebelieved she detested Malicorne. If she tried to bring himback by coquetry, Malicorne played the coquette better thanshe could. But what made Montalais hold to Malicorne in anindissoluble fashion, was that Malicorne always came cramfull of fresh news from the court and the city; Malicornealways brought to Blois a fashion, a secret, or a perfume;that Malicorne never asked for a meeting, but, on thecontrary, required to be supplicated to receive the favorshe burned to obtain. On her side Montalais was no miser withstories. By her means Malicorne learnt all that passed atBlois, in the family of the dowager Madame; and he relatedto Manicamp tales that made him ready to die with laughing,which the latter, out of idleness, took ready-made to M. deGuiche, who carried them to Monsieur.

Such, in two words, was the woof of petty interests andpetty conspiracies which united Blois with Orleans andOrleans with Paris; and which was about to bring into thelast named city, where she was to produce so great arevolution, the poor little La Valliere, who was far fromsuspecting, as she returned joyfully, leaning on the arm ofher mother, for what a strange future she was reserved. Asto the good man, Malicorne - we speak of the syndic ofOrleans - he did not see more clearly into the present thanothers did into the future; and had no suspicion as hewalked, every day, between three and five o'clock, after hisdinner, upon the Place Sainte-Catherine, in his gray coat,cut after the fashion of Louis XIII. and his cloth shoeswith great knots of ribbon, that it was he who was payingfor all those bursts of laughter, all those stolen kisses,all those whisperings, all those little keepsakes, and allthose bubble projects which formed a chain of forty-fiveleagues in length, from the palais of Blois to thePalais-Royal.