CHAPTER XXIII. THE LAST VALOIS.
I stood for a few moments on the stairs, wondering what I should do inan emergency to which the Marquis's message of the afternoon attached sopressing a character. Had it not been for that I might have waited untilmorning, and felt tolerably certain of finding mademoiselle in a morereasonable mood then. But as it was I dared not wait. I dared not riskthe delay, and I came quickly to the conclusion that the only courseopen to me was to go at once to M. de Rambouillet and tell him franklyhow the matter stood.
Maignan had posted one of his men at the open doorway leading into thestreet, and fixed his own quarters on the landing at the top, whence hecould overlook an intruder without being seen himself. Satisfied withthe arrangement, I left Rambouillet's man to reinforce him, and tookwith me Simon Fleix, of whose conduct in regard to mademoiselle Ientertained the gravest doubts.
The night, I found on reaching the street, was cold, the sky where itwas visible between the eaves being bright with stars. A sharp wind wasblowing, too, compelling us to wrap our cloaks round us and hurry onat a pace which agreed well with the excitement of my thoughts. Assuredthat had mademoiselle been complaisant I might have seen my missionaccomplished within the hour, it was impossible I should not feelimpatient with one who, to gratify a whim, played with the secrets of akingdom as if they were counters, and risked in passing ill-humour theresults of weeks of preparation. And I was impatient, and with her. Butmy resentment fell so far short of the occasion that I wondered uneasilyat my own easiness, and felt more annoyed with myself for failing to beproperly annoyed with her, than inclined to lay the blame where it wasdue. It was in vain I told myself contemptuously that she was a womanand that women were not accountable. I felt that the real secret andmotive of my indulgence lay, not in this, but in the suspicion, whichher reference to the favour given me on my departure from Rosny hadconverted almost into a certainty, that I was myself the cause of hersudden ill-humour.
I might have followed this train of thought farther, and to verypertinent conclusions. But on reaching M. de Rambouillet's lodging Iwas diverted from it by the abnormally quiet aspect of the house, on thesteps of which half a dozen servants might commonly be seen lounging.Now the doors were closed, no lights shone through the windows, and thehall sounded empty and desolate when I knocked. Not a lackey hurried toreceive me even then; but the slipshod tread of the old porter, as hecame with a lantern to open, alone broke the silence. I waited eagerlywondering what all this could mean; and when the man at last opened,and, recognising my face, begged my pardon if he had kept me waiting Iasked him impatiently what was the matter.
'And where is the Marquis?' I added, stepping inside to be out of thewind, and loosening my cloak.
'Have you not heard, sir?' the man asked, holding up his lantern to myface. He was an old, wizened, lean fellow. 'It is a break-up, sir, I amafraid, this time.'
'A break-up?' I rejoined, peevishly. 'Speak out, man! What is thematter? I hate mysteries.'
You have not heard the news, sir? That the Duke of Mercoeur and MarshalRetz, with all their people, left Blois this afternoon?'
'No?' I answered, somewhat startled. 'Whither are they gone?'
'To Paris, it is said, sir,--to join the League.'
'But do you mean that they have deserted the king?' I asked.
'For certain, sir!' he answered.
'Not the Duke of Mercoeur?' I exclaimed. 'Why, man, he is the king'sbrother-in-law. He owes everything to him.'
'Well, he is gone, sir,' the old man answered positively. 'The news wasbrought to M. le Marquis about four o'clock, or a little after. He gothis people together, and started after them to try and persuade them toreturn. Or, so it is said.'
As quickly as I could, I reviewed the situation in my mind. If thisstrange news were true, and men like Mercoeur, who had every reason tostand by the king, as well as men like Retz, who had long been suspectedof disaffection, were abandoning the Court, the danger must be comingclose indeed. The king must feel his throne already tottering, and beeager to grasp at any means of supporting it. Under such circumstancesit seemed to be my paramount duty to reach him; to gain his ear ifpossible, and at all risks; that I and not Bruhl, Navarre not Turenne,might profit by the first impulse of self-preservation.
Bidding the porter shut his door and keep close, I hurried to theCastle, and was presently more than confirmed in my resolution. Forto my surprise I found the Court in much the same state as M. deRambouillet's house. There were double guards indeed at the gates, wholet me pass after scrutinising me narrowly; but the courtyard, whichshould have been at this hour ablaze with torches and crowded withlackeys and grooms, was a dark wilderness, in which half a dozen linkstrembled mournfully. Passing through the doors I found things within inthe same state: the hall ill lit and desolate; the staircase mannedonly by a few whispering groups, who scanned me as I passed; theante-chambers almost empty, or occupied by the grey uniforms of theSwitzer guards. Where I had looked, to see courtiers assembling to meettheir sovereign and assure him of their fidelity, I found only gloomyfaces, watchful eyes, and mouths ominously closed. An air of constraintand foreboding rested on all. A single footstep sounded hollowly. Thelong corridors, which had so lately rung with laughter and the rattleof dice, seemed already devoted to the silence, and desolation whichawaited them when the Court should depart. Where any spoke I caught thename of Guise; and I could have fancied that his mighty shadow lay uponthe place and cursed it.
Entering the chamber, I found matters little better there. His Majestywas not present, nor were any of the Court ladies; but half a dozengentlemen, among whom I recognised Revol, one of the King's secretaries,stood near the alcove. They looked up on my entrance, as thoughexpecting news, and then, seeing who it was, looked away againimpatiently. The Duke of Nevers was walking moodily to and fro beforeone of the windows, his hands clasped behind his back: while Biron andCrillon, reconciled by the common peril, talked loudly on the hearth. Ihesitated a moment, uncertain how to proceed, for I was not yet so oldat Court as to feel at home there. But, at last making up my mind, Iwalked boldly up to Crillon and requested his good offices to procure mean immediate audience of the king.
'An audience? Do you mean you want to see him alone?' he said, raisinghis eyebrows and looking whimsically at Biron.
'That is my petition, M. de Crillon,' I answered firmly, though my heartsank. 'I am here on M. de Rambouillet's business, and I need to see hisMajesty forthwith.'
'Well, that is straightforward,' he replied, clapping me on theshoulder. 'And you shall see him. In coming to Crillon you have cometo the right man. Revol,' he continued, turning to the secretary, 'thisgentleman bears a message from M. de Rambouillet to the king. Take himto the closet without delay, my friend, and announce him. I will beanswerable for him.'
But the secretary shrugged his shoulders up to his ears. 'It is quiteimpossible, M. de Crillon,' he said gravely. 'Quite impossible atpresent.'
'Impossible! Chut! I do not know the word,' Crillon retorted rudely.'Come, take him at once, and blame me if ill comes of it. Do you hear?'
'But his Majesty--'
'Well?'
'Is at his devotions,' the secretary said stiffly.
'His Majesty's devotions be hanged!' Crillon rejoined--so loudly thatthere was a general titter, and M. de Nevers laughed grimly. 'Do youhear?' the Avennais continued, his face growing redder and his voicehigher, 'or must I pull your ears, my friend? Take this gentleman to thecloset, I say, and if his Majesty be angry, tell him it was by my order.I tell you he comes from Rambouillet.'
I do not know whether it was the threat, or the mention of M. deRambouillet's name, which convinced the secretary. But at any rate,after a moment's hesitation, he acquiesced.
He nodded sullenly to me to follow him, and led the way to a curtainwhich masked the door of the closet. I followed him across the chamber,after muttering a hasty word of acknowledgment to Crillon; and I had asnearly as possible reached the door when the bustle of some o
ne enteringthe chamber caught my ear. I had just time to turn and see that thiswas Bruhl, just time to intercept the dark look of chagrin and surprisewhich he fixed on me, and then Revol, holding up the curtain, signed tome to enter.
I expected to pass at once into the presence of the king, and had myreverence ready. Instead, I found myself to my surprise in a smallchamber, or rather passage, curtained at both ends, and occupied by acouple of guardsmen--members, doubtless, of the Band of the Forty-Fivewho rose at my entrance and looked at me dubiously. Their guard-room,dimly illumined by a lamp of red glass, seemed to me, in spite of itscurtains and velvet bench, and the thick tapestry which kept out everybreath of wholesome air, the most sombre I could imagine. And the mostill-omened. But I had no time to make any long observation; for Revol,passing me brusquely, raised the curtain at the other end, and, with hisfinger on his lip, bade me by signs to enter.
I did so as silently, the heavy scent of perfumes striking me in theface as I raised a second curtain, and stopped short a pace beyondit; partly in reverence--because kings love their subjects best at adistance--and partly in surprise. For the room, or rather that portionof it in which I stood, was in darkness; only the farther end beingillumined by a cold pale flood of moonlight, which, passing througha high, straight window, lay in a silvery sheet on the floor. For aninstant I thought I was alone; then I saw, resting against this window,with a hand on either mullion, a tall figure, having something strangeabout the head. This peculiarity presently resolved itself into theturban in which I had once before seen his Majesty. The king--for he itwas--was talking to himself. He had not heard me enter, and having hisback to me remained unconscious of my presence.
I paused in doubt, afraid to advance, anxious to withdraw; yet uncertainwhether I could move again unheard. At this moment while I stoodhesitating, he raised his voice, and his words, reaching my ears,riveted my attention, so strange and eerie were both they and his tone.'They say there is ill-luck in thirteen,' he muttered. 'ThirteenValois and last!' He paused to laugh a wicked, mirthless laugh.'Ay,--Thirteenth! And it is thirteen years since I entered Paris, acrowned King! There were Quelus and Maugiron and St. Megrin and I--andhe, I remember. Ah, those days, those nights! I would sell my soul tolive them again; had I not sold it long ago in the living them once! Wewere young then, and rich, and I was king; and Quelus was an Apollo! Hedied calling on me to save him. And Maugiron died, blaspheming God andthe saints. And St. Megrin, he had thirty-four wounds. And he--he isdead too, curse him! They are all dead, all dead, and it is all over! MyGod! it is all over, it is all over, it is all over!'
He repeated the last four words more than a dozen times, rocking himselfto and fro by his hold on the mullions. I trembled as I listened, partlythrough fear on my own account should I be discovered, and partlyby reason of the horror of despair and remorse--no, not remorse,regret--which spoke in his monotonous voice. I guessed that some impulsehad led him to draw the curtain from the window and shade the lamp;and that then, as he looked down on the moonlit country, the contrastbetween it and the vicious, heated atmosphere, heavy with intrigue andworse, in which he had spent his strength, had forced itself upon hismind. For he presently went on.
'France! There it lies! And what will they do with it? Will they cut itup into pieces, as it was before old Louis XI? Will Mercoeur--curse him!be the most Christian Duke of Brittany? And Mayenne, by the grace ofGod, Prince of Paris and the Upper Seine? Or will the little Prince ofBearn beat them, and be Henry IV., King of France and Navarre, Protectorof the Churches? Curse him too! He is thirty-six. He is my age. But heis young and strong, and has all before him. While I--I--oh, my God,have mercy on me! Have mercy on me, O God in Heaven!'
With the last word he fell on his knees on the step before the window,and burst into such an agony of unmanly tears and sobbings as I hadnever dreamed of or imagined, and least of all in the King of France.Hardly knowing whether to be more ashamed or terrified, I turned at allrisks, and stealthily lifting the curtain, crept out with infinite care;and happily with so much good fortune as to escape detection. There wasspace enough between the two curtains to admit my body and no more; andhere I stood a short while to collect my thoughts. Then, striking myscabbard against the wall, as though by accident, and coughing loudlyat the same moment, I twitched the curtain aside with some violence andre-entered, thinking that by these means I had given him warning enough.
But I had not reckoned on the darkness in which the room lay, or theexcitable state in which I had left him. He heard me, indeed, but beingable to see only a tall, indistinct figure approaching him, he tookfright, and falling back against the moonlit window, as though he sawa ghost, thrust out his hand, gasping at the same time two words, whichsounded to me like 'Ha! Guise!'
The next instant, discerning that I fell on my knee where I stood,and came no nearer, he recovered himself with an effort, which hisbreathing made very apparent, he asked in an unsteady voice who it was.
'One of your Majesty's most faithful servants,' I answered, remaining onmy knee, and affecting to see nothing.
Keeping his face towards me, he sidled to the lamp and strove towithdraw the shade. But his fingers trembled so violently that it wassome time before he succeeded, and set free the cheerful beams, which,suddenly filling the room with radiance, disclosed to my wonderingeyes, instead of darkness and the cold gleam of the moon, a profusionof riches, of red stuffs and gemmed trifles and gilded arms crowdedtogether in reckless disorder. A monkey chained in one corner beganto gibber and mow at me. A cloak of strange cut, stretched on a woodenstand, deceived me for an instant into thinking that there was a thirdperson present; while the table, heaped with dolls and powder-puff's,dog-collars and sweet-meats, a mask, a woman's slipper, a pair ofpistols, some potions, a scourge, and an immense quantity of likelitter, had as melancholy an appearance in my eyes as the king himself,whose disorder the light disclosed without mercy. His turban was awry,and betrayed the premature baldness of his scalp. The paint on hischeeks was cracked and stained, and had soiled the gloves he wore. Helooked fifty years old; and in his excitement he had tugged his sword tothe front, whence it refused to be thrust back.
'Who sent you here?' he asked, when he had so far recovered his sensesas to recognise me, which he did with great surprise.
'I am here, sire,' I answered evasively, 'to place myself at yourMajesty's service.'
'Such loyalty is rare,' he answered, with a bitter sneer. 'But standup, sir. I suppose I must be thankful for small mercies, and, losing aMercoeur, be glad to receive a Marsac.'
'By your leave, sire,' I rejoined hardily, 'the exchange is not soadverse. Your Majesty may make another duke when you will. But honestmen are not so easily come by.'
'So! so!' he answered, looking at me with a fierce light in his eyes.'You remind me in season, I may still make and unmake! I am still Kingof France? That is so sirrah, is it not?'
'God forbid that it should be otherwise!' I answered earnestly. 'It isto lay before your Majesty certain means by which you may give fullereffect to your wishes that I am here. The King of Navarre desires only,sire--'
'Tut, tut!' he exclaimed impatiently, and with some displeasure, 'I knowhis will better than you, man. But you see,' he continued cunningly,forgetting my inferior position as quickly as he had remembered it,'Turenne promises well, too. And Turenne--it is true he may play theLorrainer. But if I trust Henry of Navarre, and he prove false to me--'
He did not complete the sentence, but strode to and fro a time or two,his mind, which had a natural inclination towards crooked courses, benton some scheme by which he might play off the one party against theother. Apparently he was not very successful in finding one, however;or else the ill-luck with which he had supported the League against theHuguenots recurred to his mind. For he presently stopped, with a sigh,and came back to the point.
'If I knew that Turenne were lying,' be muttered, 'then indeed--. ButRosny promised evidence, and he has sent me none.'
'It is at hand, sire,' I answe
red, my heart beginning to beat, 'YourMajesty will remember that M. de Rosny honoured me with the task ofintroducing it to you.'
'To be sure,' he replied, awaking as from a dream, and looking andspeaking eagerly. Matters to-day have driven everything out of my head.Where is your witness, man? Convince me, and we will act promptly. Wewill give them Jarnac and Moncontour over again. Is he outside?'
'It is a woman, sire,' I made answer, dashed somewhat by his sudden andfeverish alacrity.
'A woman, eh? You have her here?'
'No, sire,' I replied, wondering what he would say to my next pieceof information. 'She is in Blois, she has arrived, but the truth is--Ihumbly crave your Majesty's indulgence--she refuses to come or speak.I cannot well bring her here by force, and I have sought you, sire, forthe purpose of taking your commands in the matter.'
He stared at me in the utmost astonishment.
'Is she young?' he asked after a long pause.
'Yes, sire,' I answered. 'She is maid of honour to the Princess ofNavarre, and a ward also of the Vicomte de Turenne.'
'Gad! then she is worth hearing, the little rebel!' he replied. 'A wardOf Turenne's is she? Ho! ho! And now she will not speak? My cousinof Navarre now would know how to bring her to her senses, but I haveeschewed these vanities. I might send and have her brought, it is true;but a very little thing would cause a barricade to-night.'
'And besides, sire,' I ventured to add, 'she is known to Turenne'speople here, who have once stolen her away. Were she brought to yourMajesty with any degree of openness, they would learn it, and know thatthe game was lost.'
'Which would not suit me,' he answered, nodding and looking at megloomily. 'They might anticipate our Jarnac; and until we have settledmatters with one or the other our person is not too secure. You must goand fetch her. She is at your lodging. She must be brought, man.'
'I will do what you command, sire,' I answered. 'But I am greatly afraidthat she will not come.'
He lost his temper at that. 'Then why, in the devil's name, haveyou troubled me with the matter?' he cried savagely. 'God knows--Idon't--why Rosny employed such a man and such a woman. He might haveseen from the cut of your cloak, sir, which is full six months behindthe fashion, that you could not manage a woman! Was ever such damnablefolly heard of in this world? But it is Navarre's loss, not mine. It ishis loss. And I hope to Heaven it may be yours too!' he added fiercely.
There was so much in what he said that I bent before the storm, andaccepted with humility blame which was as natural on his part as it wasundeserved on mine. Indeed I could not wonder at his Majesty's anger;nor should I have wondered at it in a greater man. I knew that but forreasons, on which I did not wish to dwell, I should have shared it tothe full, and spoken quite as strongly of the caprice which ruined hopesand lives for a whim.
The king continued for some time to say to me all the hard things hecould think of. Wearied at last by my patience, he paused, and criedangrily. 'Well, have you nothing; to say for yourself? Can you suggestnothing?'
'I dare not mention to your Majesty,' I said humbly, 'what seems to meto be the only alternative.'
'You mean that I should go to the wench!' he answered--for he did notlack quickness. '"SE NON VA EL OTERO A MAHOMA, VAYA MAHOMA AL OTERO," asMendoza says. But the saucy quean, to force me to go to her! Did my wifeguess--but there, I will go. By God I will go!' he added abruptly andfiercely. 'I will live to ruin Retz yet! Where is your lodging?'
I told him, wondering much at this flash of the old spirit, which twentyyears before had won him a reputation his later life did nothing tosustain.
'Do you know,' he asked, speaking with sustained energy and clearness,'the door by which M. de Rosny entered to talk with me? Can you find itin the dark?'
'Yes, sire,' I answered, my heart beating high.
'Then be in waiting there two hours before midnight,' he replied. 'Bewell armed, but alone. I shall know how to make the girl speak. I cantrust you, I suppose?' he added suddenly, stepping nearer to me andlooking fixedly into my eyes.
'I will answer for your Majesty's life with my own,' I replied, sinkingon one knee.
'I believe you, sir,' he answered gravely, giving me his hand to kiss,and then turning away. 'So be it. Now leave me. You have been here toolong already. Not a word to any one as you value your life.'
I made fitting answer and was leaving him; but when I had my headalready on the curtain, he called me back. 'In Heaven's name get a newcloak!' he said peevishly, eyeing me all over with his face puckered up.'Get a new cloak, man, the first thing in the morning. It is worse seenfrom the side than the front. It would ruin the cleverest courtier ofthem all!'
A Gentleman of France: Being the Memoirs of Gaston de Bonne Sieur de Marsac Page 23
