“And was it not found out at last to whom the horse and jockey belonged?”
“No.”
“You say that the horse was entered under the name of Vampa?”
“Exactly; that was the title.”
“Then,” answered Albert, “I am better informed than you are, and know who the owner of that horse was.”
“Shut up, there!” cried the pit in chorus. And this time the tone and manner in which the command was given, betokened such growing hostility that the two young men perceived, for the first time, that the mandate was addressed to them. Leisurely turning round, they calmly scrutinized the various countenances around them, as though demanding some one person who would take upon himself the responsibility of what they deemed excessive impertinence; but as no one responded to the challenge, the friends turned again to the front of the theatre, and affected to busy themselves with the stage. At this moment the door of the minister’s box opened, and Madame Danglars, accompanied by her daughter, entered, escorted by Lucien Debray, who assiduously conducted them to their seats.
“Ha, ha,” said Château-Renaud, “here come some friends of yours, viscount! What are you looking at there? don’t you see they are trying to catch your eye?”
Albert turned round, just in time to receive a gracious wave of the fan from the baroness; as for Mademoiselle Eugénie, she scarcely vouchsafed to waste the glances of her large black eyes even upon the business of the stage.
“I tell you what, my dear fellow,” said Château-Renaud, “I cannot imagine what objection you can possibly have to Mademoiselle Danglars—that is, setting aside her want of ancestry and somewhat inferior rank, which by the way I don’t think you care very much about. Now, barring all that, I mean to say she is a deuced fine girl!”