CHAPTER XV. VILAIN HERODES.
All the distaste and misliking I had expressed earlier in the day forthe Court of Blois recurred with fresh force in the darkness and gloom;and though, booted and travel-stained as we were, I did not conceive itlikely that we should be obtruded on the circle about the king, I feltnone the less an oppressive desire to be through with our adventure, andaway from the ill-omened precincts in which I found myself. The darknessprevented me seeing the faces of my companions; but on M. de Rosny, whowas not quite free himself, I think, from the influences of the timeand place, twitching my sleeve to enforce vigilance, I noted that thelackeys had ceased to follow us, and that we three were beginningto ascend a rough staircase cut in the rock. I gathered, though thedarkness limited my view behind as well as in front to a few twinklinglights, that we were mounting the scarp from the moat; to the side wallof the castle; and I was not surprised when the marquis muttered to usto stop, and knocked softly on the wood of a door.
M. de Rosny might have spared the touch he had laid on my sleeve, for bythis time I was fully and painfully sensible of the critical position inwhich we stood, and was very little likely to commit an indiscretion. Itrusted he had not done so already! No doubt--it flashed across me whilewe waited--he had taken care to safeguard himself. But how often, Ireflected, had all safeguards been set aside and all precautions eludedby those to whom he was committing himself! Guise had thought himselfsecure in this very building, which we were about to enter. Coligny hadreceived the most absolute of safe-conducts from those to whom wewere apparently bound. The end in either case had been the same--theconfidence of the one proving of no more avail than the wisdom of theother. What if the King of France thought to make his peace with hisCatholic subjects--offended by the murder of Guise--by a second murderof one as obnoxious to them as he was precious to their arch-enemy inthe South? Rosny was sagacious indeed; but then I reflected with suddenmisgiving that he was young, ambitious, and bold.
The opening of the door interrupted without putting an end to thistrain of apprehension. A faint light shone out; so feebly as to illuminelittle more than the stairs at our feet. The marquis entered at once, M.de Rosny followed, I brought up the rear; and the door was closed by aman who stood behind it. We found ourselves crowded together at the footof a very narrow staircase, which the doorkeeper--a stolid pikeman in agrey uniform, with a small lanthorn swinging from the crosspiece ofhis halberd--signed to us to ascend. I said a word to him, but he onlystared in answer, and M. de Rambouillet, looking back and seeing what Iwas about, called to me that it was useless, as the man was a Swiss andspoke no French.
This did not tend to reassure me; any more than did the chill roughnessof the wall which my hand touched as I groped upwards, or the smellof bats which invaded my nostrils and suggested that the staircase waslittle used and belonged to a part of the castle fitted for dark andsecret doings.
We stumbled in the blackness up the steps, passing one door and then asecond before M. de Rambouillet whispered to us to stand, and knockedgently at a third.
The secrecy, the darkness, and above all the strange arrangements madeto receive us, filled me with the wildest conjectures. But when thedoor opened and we passed one by one into a bare, unfurnished, draughtygallery, immediately, as I judged, under the tiles, the reality agreedwith no one of my anticipations. The place was a mere garret, without ahearth, without a single stool. Three windows, of which one was roughlyglazed, while the others were filled with oiled paper, were set in onewall; the others displaying the stones and mortar without disguise orornament. Beside the door through which we had entered stood a silentfigure in the grey uniform I had seen below, his lanthorn on the floorat his feet. A second door at the farther end of the gallery, whichwas full twenty paces long, was guarded in like manner. A couple oflanthorns stood in the middle of the floor, and that was all.
Inside the door, M. de Rambouillet with his finger on his lip stoppedus, and we stood a little group of three a pace in front of the sentry,and with the empty room before us. I looked at M. de Rosny, but he waslooking at Rambouillet. The marquis had his back towards me, the sentrywas gazing into vacancy; so that baffled in my attempt to learn anythingfrom the looks of the other actors in the scene, I fell back on my ears.The rain dripped outside and the moaning wind rattled the casements; butmingled with these melancholy sounds--which gained force, as such thingsalways do, from the circumstances in which we were placed and our ownsilence--I fancied I caught the distant hum of voices and music andlaughter. And that, I know not why, brought M. de Guise again to mymind.
The story of his death, as I had heard it from that accursed monk in theinn on the Claine, rose up in all its freshness, with all its details.I started when M. de Rambouillet coughed. I shivered when Rosny shiftedhis feet. The silence grew oppressive. Only the stolid men in greyseemed unmoved, unexpectant; so that I remember wondering whether it wastheir nightly duty to keep guard over an empty garret, the floor strewnwith scraps of mortar and ends of tiles.
The interruption, when it came at last, came suddenly. The sentry at thefarther end of the gallery started and fell back a pace. Instantly thedoor beside him opened and a man came in, and closing it quickly behindhim, advanced up the room with an air of dignity, which even his strangeappearance and attire could not wholly destroy.
He was of good stature and bearing, about forty years old as I judged,his wear a dress of violet velvet with black points cut in the extremeof the fashion. He carried a sword but no ruff, and had a cup and ballof ivory--a strange toy much in vogue among the idle--suspended from hiswrist by a ribbon. He was lean and somewhat narrow, but so far I foundlittle fault with him. It was only when my eye reached his face, andsaw it rouged like a woman's and surmounted by a little turban, that afeeling of scarcely understood disgust seized me, and I said to myself,'This is the stuff of which kings' minions are made!'
To my surprise, however, M. de Rambouillet went to meet him with theutmost respect, sweeping the dirty floor with his bonnet, and bowingto the very ground. The newcomer acknowledged his salute with negligentkindness. Remarking pleasantly 'You have brought a friend, I think?' helooked towards us with a smile.
'Yes, sire, he is here,' the marquis answered, stepping aside a little.And with the word I understood that this was no minion, but the kinghimself: Henry, the Third of the name, and the last of the great Houseof Valois, which had ruled France by the grace of God for two centuriesand a half! I stared at him, and stared at him, scarcely believing whatI saw. For the first time in my life I was in the presence of the king!
Meanwhile M. de Rosny, to whom he was, of course, no marvel, had goneforward and knelt on one knee. The king raised him graciously, and withan action which, viewed apart from his woman's face and silly turban,seemed royal and fitting. 'This is good of you, Rosny,' he said. 'But itis only what I expected of you.'
'Sire,' my companion answered, 'your Majesty has no more devoted servantthan myself, unless it be the king my master.'
'By my faith,' Henry answered with energy--'and if I am not a goodchurchman, whatever those rascally Parisians say, I am nothing--by myfaith, I think I believe you!'
'If your Majesty would believe me in that and in some other thingsalso,' M. de Rosny answered, 'it would be very well for France.' Thoughhe spoke courteously, he threw so much weight and independence intohis words that I thought of the old proverb, 'A good master, a boldservant.'
'Well, that is what we are here to see,' the king replied. 'But onetells me one thing,' he went on fretfully, 'and one another, and whicham I to believe?'
'I know nothing of others, sire,' Rosny answered with the same spirit.'But my master has every claim to be believed. His interest in theroyalty of France is second only to your Majesty's. He is also a kingand a kinsman, and it erks him to see rebels beard you, as has happenedof late.'
'Ay, but the chief of them?' Henry exclaimed, giving way to suddenexcitement and stamping furiously on the floor. 'He will trouble me nomore. Has my brother heard o
f THAT? Tell me, sir, has that news reachedhim?'
'He has heard it, sire.'
'And he approved? He approved, of course?'
'Beyond doubt the man was a traitor,' M. de Rosny answered delicately.'His life was forfeit, sire. Who can question it?'
'And he has paid the forfeit,' the king rejoined, looking down atthe floor and immediately falling into a moodiness as sudden as hisexcitement. His lips moved. He muttered something inaudible, and beganto play absently with his cup and ball, his mind occupied apparentlywith a gloomy retrospect. 'M. de Guise, M. de Guise,' he murmured atlast, with a sneer and an accent of hate which told of old humiliationslong remembered. 'Well, damn him, he is dead now. He is dead. But beingdead he yet troubles us. Is not that the verse, father? Ha!' with astart, 'I was forgetting. But that is the worst wrong he has done me,'he continued, looking up and growing excited again. 'He has cut me offfrom Mother Church. There is hardly a priest comes near me now, andpresently they will excommunicate me. And, as I hope for salvation, theChurch has no more faithful son than me.'
I believe he was on the point, forgetting M. de Rosny's presence thereand his errand, of giving way to unmanly tears, when M. de Rambouillet,as if by accident, let the heel of his scabbard fall heavily on thefloor. The king started, and passing his hand once or twice across hisbrow, seemed to recover himself. 'Well,' he said, 'no doubt we shallfind a way out of our difficulties.'
'If your Majesty,' Rosny answered respectfully, 'would accept the aid mymaster proffers, I venture to think that they would vanish the quicker.'
'You think so,' Henry rejoined. 'Well, give me your shoulder. Let uswalk a little.' And, signing to Rambouillet to leave him, he began towalk up and down with M. de Rosny, talking familiarly with him in anundertone.
Only such scraps of the conversation as fell from them when they turnedat my end of the gallery now reached me. Patching these together,however, I managed to understand somewhat. At one turn I heard the kingsay, 'But then Turenne offers--' At the next, 'Trust him? Well, I do notknow why I should not. He promises--' Then 'A Republic, Rosny? Thathis plan? Pooh! he dare not. He could not. France is a kingdom by theordinance of God in my family.'
I gathered from these and other chance words, which I have sinceforgotten, that M. de Rosny was pressing the king to accept the help ofthe King of Navarre, and warning him against the insidious offers of theVicomte de Turenne. The mention of a Republic, however, seemed to excitehis Majesty's wrath rather against Rosny for presuming to refer to sucha thing than against Turenne, to whom he refused to credit it. He pausednear my end of the promenade.
'Prove it!' he said angrily. 'But can you prove it? Can you prove it?Mind you, I will take no hearsay evidence, sir. Now, there is Turenne'sagent here--you did not know, I dare say, that he had an agent here?'
'You refer, sire, to M. de Bruhl,' Rosny answered, without hesitation.'I know him, sire.'
'I think you are the devil,' Henry answered, looking curiously at him.'You seem to know most things. But mind you, my friend, he speaks mefairly, and I will not take this on hearsay even from your master.Though,' he added after pausing a moment, 'I love him.'
'And he, your Majesty. He desires only to prove it.'
'Yes, I know, I know,' the king answered fretfully. 'I believes he does.I believe he does wish me well. But there will be a devil of an outcryamong my people. And Turenne gives fair words too. And I do not know,'he continued, fidgeting with his cup and ball, 'that it might not suitme better to agree with him, you see.'
I saw M. de Rosny draw himself up. 'Dare I speak openly to you, sire,'he said, with less respect and more energy than he had hitherto used.'As I should to my master?'
'Ay, say what you like,' Henry answered. But he spoke sullenly, and itseemed to me that he looked less pleasantly at his companion.
'Then I will venture to utter what is in your Majesty's mind,' my patronanswered steadfastly. 'You fear, sire, lest, having accepted my master'soffer and conquered your enemies, you should not be easily rid of him.'
Henry looked relieved. 'Do you call that diplomacy?' he said with asmile. 'However, what if it be so? What do you say to it? Methinks Ihave heard an idle tale about a horse which would hunt a stag; and forthe purpose set a man upon its back.'
'This I say, sire, first,' Rosny answered very earnestly. 'That the Kingof Navarre is popular only with one-third of the kingdom, and is onlypowerful when united with you. Secondly, sire, it is his interest tosupport the royal power, to which he is heir. And, thirdly, it must bemore to your Majesty's honour to accept help from a near kinsman thanfrom an ordinary subject, and one who, I still maintain, sire, has nogood designs in his mind.'
'The proof' Henry said sharply. 'Give me that!'
'I can give it in a week from this day.'
'It must be no idle tale, mind you,' the king continued suspiciously.
'You shall have Turenne's designs, sire, from one who had them from hisown mouth.'
The king looked startled, but after a pause turned and resumed his walk.'Well,' he said, 'if you do that, I on my part--'
The rest I lost, for the two passing to the farther end of the gallery,came to a standstill there, balking my curiosity and Rambouillet's also.The marquis, indeed, began to betray his impatience, and the great clockimmediately over our heads presently striking the half-hour after ten,he started and made as if he would have approached the king. He checkedthe impulse, however, but still continued to fidget uneasily, losing hisreserve by-and-by so far as to whisper to me that his Majesty would bemissed.
I had been, up to this point, a silent and inactive spectator of ascene which appealed to my keenest interests and aroused my most ardentcuriosity. Surprise following surprise, I had begun to doubt my ownidentity; so little had I expected to find myself first in the presenceof the Most Christian King--and that under circumstances as strange andbizarre as could well be imagined--and then an authorised witness ata negotiation upon which the future of all the great land of Francestretching for so many hundred leagues on every side of us, depended. Isay I could scarcely believe in my own identity; or that I was the sameGaston de Marsac who had slunk, shabby and out-at-elbows, about St. Jeand'Angely. I tasted the first sweetness of secret power, which men say isthe sweetest of all and the last relinquished; and, the hum ofdistant voices and laughter still reaching me at intervals, I began tounderstand why we had been admitted with, so much precaution, and tocomprehend the gratification of M. de Rosny when the promise of thisinterview first presented to him the hope of effecting so much for hismaster and for France.
Now I was to be drawn into the whirlpool itself. I was still travellingback over the different stages of the adventure which had brought me tothis point, when I was rudely awakened by M. de Rosny calling my namein a raised voice. Seeing, somewhat late, that he was beckoning to meto approach, I went forward in a confused and hasty fashion; kneelingbefore the king as I had seen him kneel, and then rising to give ear tohis Majesty's commands. Albeit, having expected nothing less than to becalled upon, I was not in the clearest mood to receive them. Nor was mybearing such as I could have wished it to be.
M. de Rosny tells me that you desire a commission at Court, sir,' theking said quickly.
'I, sire?' I stammered, scarcely able to believe my ears. I was socompletely taken aback that I could say no more, and I stopped therewith my mouth open.
'There are few things I can deny M. de Rosny,' Henry continued, speakingvery rapidly, 'and I am told that you are a gentleman of birth andability. Out of kindness to him, therefore, I grant you a commission toraise twenty men for my service. Rambouillet,' he continued, raisinghis voice slightly, 'you will introduce this gentleman to me publiclyto-morrow, that; I may carry into effect my intention on his behalf. Youmay go now, sir. No thanks. And M. de Rosny,' he added, turning to mycompanion and speaking with energy, 'have a care for my sake that youare not recognised as you go. Rambouillet must contrive something toenable you to leave without peril. I should be desolated if anythinghappen
ed to you, my friend, for I could not protect you. I give you myword if Mendoza or Retz found you in Blois I could not save you fromthem unless you recanted.'
'I will not trouble either your Majesty or my conscience,' M. de Rosnyreplied, bowing low, 'if my wits can help me.'
'Well, the saints keep you,' the king answered piously, going towardsthe door by which he had entered; 'for your master and I have both needof you. Rambouillet, take care of him as you love me. And come early inthe morning to my closet and tell me how it has fared with him.'
We all stood bowing while he withdrew, and only turned to retire whenthe door closed behind him. Burning with indignation and chagrin asI was at finding myself disposed of in the way I have described, andpitchforked, whether I would or no, into a service I neither fanciednor desired, I still managed for the present to restrain myself; and,permitting my companions to precede me, followed in silence, listeningsullenly to their jubilations. The marquis seemed scarcely less pleasedthan M. de Rosny; and as the latter evinced a strong desire to lessenany jealousy the former might feel, and a generous inclination toattribute to him a full share of the credit gained, I remained theonly person dissatisfied with the evening's events. We retired from thechateau with the same precautions which had marked our entrance, andparting with M. de Rambouillet at the door of our lodging--not withoutmany protestations of esteem on his part and of gratitude on that ofM. de Rosny--mounted to the first-floor in single file and in silence,which I was determined not to be the first to break.
Doubtless M. de Rosny knew my thoughts, for, speedily dismissing Maignanand Simon, who were in waiting, he turned to me without preface. 'Come,my friend,' he said, laying his hand on my shoulder and looking me inthe face in a way which all but disarmed me at once, 'do not let usmisunderstand one another. You think you have cause to be angry with me.I cannot suffer that, for the King of Navarre had never greater need ofyour services than now.'
'You have played me an unworthy trick, sir,'I answered, thinking hewould cozen me with fair speeches.
'Tut, tut!' he replied. 'You do not understand.'
'I understand well enough,' I answered, with bitterness, 'that, havingdone the King of Navarre's work, he would now be rid of me.'
'Have I not told you,' M. de Rosny replied, betraying for the first timesome irritation, 'that he has greater need of your services than ever?Come, man, be reasonable, or, better still, listen to me.' And turningfrom me, he began to walk up and down the room, his hands behind him.'the King of France--I want to make it as clear to you as possible--'he said, 'cannot make head against the League without help, and,willy-nilly, must look for it to the Huguenots whom he has so longpersecuted. The King of Navarre, their acknowledged leader, has offeredthat help; and so, to spite my master, and prevent a combination sohappy for France, has M. de Turenne, who would fain raise the faction hecommands to eminence, and knows well how to make his profit out of thedissensions of his country. Are you clear so far, sir?'
I assented. I was becoming absorbed in spite of myself.
'Very well,' he resumed. 'This evening--never did anything fall out morehappily than Rambouillet's meeting with me--he is a good man!--Ihave brought the king to this: that if proof of the selfish nature ofTurenne's designs be laid before him he will hesitate no longer. Thatproof exists. A fortnight ago it was here; but it is not here now.'
'That is unlucky!' I exclaimed. I was so much interested in his story,as well as flattered by the confidence he was placing in me, that myill-humour vanished. I went and stood with my shoulder against themantelpiece, and he, passing to and fro between me and the light,continued his tale.
'A word about this proof,' he said. 'It came into the King of Navarre'shands before its full value was known to us, for that only accrued toit on M. de Guise's death. A month ago it--this piece of evidence Imean--was at Chize. A fortnight or so ago it was here in Blois. Itis now, 'M. de Marsac,' he continued, facing me suddenly as he cameopposite me, 'in my house at Rosny.'
I started. 'You mean Mademoiselle de la Vire?' I cried.
'I mean Mademoiselle de la Vire!' he answered, 'who, some month or twoago, overheard M. de Turenne's plans, and contrived to communicatewith the King of Navarre. Before the latter could arrange a privateinterview, however, M. de Turenne got wind of her dangerous knowledge,and swept her off to Chize. The rest you know, M. de Marsac, if any manknows it.'
'But what will you do?' I asked. 'She is at Rosny.'
'Maignan, whom I trust implicitly, as far as his lights go, will startto fetch her to-morrow. At the same hour I start southwards. You, M.de Marsac, will remain here as my agent, to watch over my interests,to receive Mademoiselle on her arrival, to secure for her a secretinterview with the king, to guard her while she remains here. Do youunderstand?'
Did I understand? I could not find words in which to thank him. Myremorse and gratitude, my sense of the wrong I had done him, and of thehonour he was doing me, were such that I stood mute before him as I hadstood before the king. 'You accept, then?' he said, smiling. 'You do notdeem the adventure beneath you, my friend?'
'I deserve your confidence so little, sir,' I answered, stricken to theground, 'that I beg you to speak, while I listen. By attending exactlyto your instructions I may prove worthy of the trust reposed in me. Andonly so.'
He embraced me again and again, with a kindness which moved me almostto tears. 'You are a man after my own heart,' he said, 'and if God willsI will make your fortune. Now listen, my friend. To-morrow at Court, asa stranger and a man introduced by Rambouillet, you will be the cynosureof all eyes. Bear yourself bravely. Pay court to the women, but attachyourself to no one in particular. Keep aloof from Retz and the Spanishfaction, but beware especially of Bruhl. He alone will have your secret,and may suspect your design. Mademoiselle should be here in a week;while she is with you, and until she has seen the king, trust no one,suspect everyone, fear all things. Consider the battle won only when theking says, "I am satisfied."'
Much more he told me, which served its purpose and has been forgotten.Finally he honoured me by bidding me share his pallet with him, that wemight talk without restraint, and that if anything occurred to him inthe night he might communicate it to me.
'But will not Bruhl denounce me as a Huguenot?' I asked him.
'He will not dare to do so,' M. de Rosny answered, 'both as a Huguenothimself, and as his master's representative; and, further, because itwould displease the king. No, but whatever secret harm one man cando another, that you have to fear. Maignan, when he returns withmademoiselle, will leave two men with you; until they come I shouldborrow a couple of stout fellows from Rambouillet. Do not go out aloneafter dark, and beware of doorways, especially your own.'
A little later, when I thought him asleep, I heard him chuckle; andrising on my elbow I asked him what it was. 'Oh, it is your affair,'he answered, still laughing silently, so that I felt the mattress shakeunder him. 'I don't envy you one part of your task, my friend.'
'What is that?' I said suspiciously.
'Mademoiselle,' he answered, stifling with difficulty a burst oflaughter. And after that he would not say another word, bad, good, orindifferent, though I felt the bed shake more than once, and knew thathe was digesting his pleasantry.
A Gentleman of France: Being the Memoirs of Gaston de Bonne Sieur de Marsac Page 15
