CHAPTER XLVIII.
"I can promise you nothing, my young friend," said the Prince deSoubise, about a fortnight after the period at which I concluded thelast chapter, "till I have consulted with my brother Rohan and someother members of my family. You English people view these mattersdifferently from ourselves in France: a marriage is not only the unitingtwo persons who are attached to each other, but it is the linking of twofamilies together. Of course, this nominal and merely formal marriagebetween you and my young cousin is altogether null and void,--of noeffect or consequence."
"I do not know, my lord the prince," replied Edward, in a tone of a gooddeal of irritation. "I have been assured it is a perfectly validmarriage; and, I must respectfully add, I shall attempt to prove it so."
"Pshaw!" said Soubise, in a light tone: "we had better not take uphostile positions toward each other." And, turning on his heel, he leftthe room.
The scene of this conversation was the rector's library at Applethorpe,for Dr. Winthorne had a headache and had retired to rest; and, as soonas the prince was gone, Edward took forth some letters he had receivedthat morning, and, approaching the table where the candles stood, heread them again with an eager look. No French post, to his knowledge,had come in; but the letters were evidently from France, and one,addressed to Clement Tournon, was sent open to him; whilstanother,--very short, but in Lucette's own hand,--tied and sealed, cameto him direct.
Both were of a date which surprised and alarmed the youngEnglishman,--that from Clement Tournon dated only two days after he hadleft Rochelle, that from Lucette fully seven weeks previous. The letterof the good goldsmith which enclosed the other was somewhat long. Ittold Edward a great deal about Rochelle, and contained much matter thatneed not be recapitulated; but the point of greatest interest was hismention of Lucette. "Probably," he said, "she has told you in theenclosed all she has told to me, and therefore I need not repeat it. Shecalls upon us both for aid, and, as far as a feeble old man can give it,she shall not want it. But alas, my dear Edward, it is very wrongly thatmen attribute power to wealth. I have proved it, and know that there aretimes when heaps of gold will not buy a loaf of bread. However, if mylast livre will help that dear girl, she shall have it. In the meantime, do you, young, active, enterprising as you are, follow herdirections to the letter. You can do more than I can. I set out thisnight; but, considering that you may want money for so long andexpensive a journey, I have left such directions that all your draftsupon me will be paid to any reasonable amount. In a month I will be inHuntingdon, where I am assured by one I can depend upon that my presenceis required for your benefit."
Lucette's letter was but a note.
"Fly to me, my beloved husband." So it said. "If you love your poor Lucette as she loves you, come to me without the delay of an hour. There are people here who want to take me away and carry me to France. They have no authority from Monsieur de Rohan,--otherwise, as hard as he is, I should feel myself secure,--but they have great power with the rulers of this republic, it seems. Madame de la Cour is an excellent woman, but weak and timid. She says that she dares not resist them, that she is but a poor exile herself, and that when they are ready to go she must yield me up to them. I would rather die were it not that, when I think of you, hope still comes in to give me a ray of light which all these sorrows and troubles cannot darken. Oh, come soon to your LUCETTE."
Edward looked at the date again. There was no time to be lost, if hewere not already too late; and at once he determined on his course. Thetwo years during which he had promised not to seek Lucette were nearlyat an end. The words of Monsieur de Soubise had given him noencouragement to wait for the consent of her family: the only course wasto make her his own irrevocably, then let them scoff at the marriagebetween them if they would. He would go to Richelieu, he thought; hewould lay before him the letters he had received; he would beseech thecardinal to free him for the few short weeks that remained from thepromise he had made, and to speed him to Venice with the power whichonly he possessed. Once side by side with his dear little bride, hethought, it would not be in the power of worlds to tear them apart.
The determined and impetuous spirit roused itself; recent success hadrefreshed hope; he had found more money waiting for him than heexpected, so that none of the small material obstacles which sofrequently trip up eagerness were present; and he determined to set outthat very night.
Not more than half an hour was occupied in his preparations, and then hewent to Dr. Winthorne's room and knocked at the door. After the secondknock a somewhat testy voice told him to come in, and there he remainedfor a full hour in earnest conversation. Whatever took place, nothingDr. Winthorne said induced him to alter his resolution; but aboutmidnight he and Pierrot mounted in the court-yard and set out forLondon.
Let us pass over all the little impediments of the road,--thehorse-shoes and the blacksmiths, and the trouble about a pass from Doverto Calais, which, as the relations between France and England had becomemuch more amicable, presented no great difficulties after all,--and letus carry Edward at once to the gates of Paris, where the gay andglittering crowd was as dense and perhaps more brilliant in those daysthan it is in ours. The young man's brain felt almost confused at thenumbers before his eyes and the whirling rapidity of every thing aroundhim. As he knew nothing of the town, he had to ask his way to an innwhich had been recommended to him, and met with all the urbanity andreal good-humor which have always distinguished the Parisian population.
The master of the _auberge_--for there were no hotels in Paris till thenobility who had hotels, broken in fortune and deprived of power, wereforced to sell their dwellings to the affable receivers of allmen--welcomed him, as he himself would have called it, with alldistinction; and his reverence was greatly increased when the youngstranger called for pen and ink and paper and indited a note to thecardinal prime minister, telling him of his arrival in Paris, andcraving an audience as soon as possible on business of the utmostimportance. He had the good faith to tell him that the business was ofimportance to himself; but that frankness was not thrown away upon thecardinal.
He sealed the letter with the great seal of his arms, and begged theaubergist to send it immediately by a messenger who would if possibleobtain an answer.
The good man remarked that it was the hour of the cardinal's dinner, andthat men said that his Eminence was to set off on the following day upona long journey.
"The more reason he should have that letter as soon as possible," saidEdward. "Pray, let it go without delay; and if the man brings me back ananswer I will give him a gold crown."
What took place at the cardinal's palace--a smaller building than themagnificent edifice he afterward erected, long known first as the PalaisCardinal and afterward as the Palais Royal--I do not know; but at theend of an hour and a half the man returned, and, with a happy grin,demanded his gold crown, handing Edward a sealed paper. The contentswere as follows:--
"I am commanded by his Eminence to inform Monsieur de Langdale that, though he cannot give him a formal audience, he will see him to-night at the theatre of the Hotel de Bourgogne, when he will hear whatever he has to communicate. This letter presented at the door will be his introduction.
"ROSSIGNOL."
Edward Langdale took care to obtain every information he could from thelandlord in regard to the Parisian theatre, which was at that time justbeginning to rise into some degree of importance. Some years before, thetheatres of Paris were merely the resort of bad women and dissolute menand the scene of very bad actors; but Richelieu, with that fine tastewhich was one of his remarkable characteristics, had not only seen thatthe stage might easily be refined, but had absolutely refined it.Excellent actors were engaged at both the great theatres of Paris;authors, not alone of merit, but of real genius, pressed forward in anew career of literature; and the highest and purest ladies of theFrench court graced the theatre, perhaps as much to please and flatterthe great minister as for any ente
rtainment they received.
At the hour which had been indicated by the landlord Edward was at thedoor of the Hotel de Bourgogne; and as he saw that everybody was payingfor entrance he did the same, and then exhibited the letter of thesecretary Rossignol. The moment it was seen by the people at the doorthe effect was magical. Two men started forward, bowing to the ground,reproached the young stranger in somewhat stilted terms for not showingthe note before he had paid for admission, and begged to lead him to thecardinal, who they informed him had just entered. The arrangement of atheatre in those days was very different from that of modern times; butyet Richelieu had his little room, or box, as we should call it now, atthe Hotel de Bourgogne, close to the stage, but not upon it. Into thisroom no one was admitted but those specially invited, and at the doorstood two of his guards, who, however, gave instant ingress to Edward assoon as they saw the letter he carried in his hand. In the box were someeight or nine people, with the cardinal himself on the left-hand side,where he had a full view of the stage but could hardly be seen from thebody of the house. The play had not commenced, and he turned his headat the sound of the door as Edward entered. The moment he saw him hebeckoned him up to his side, before Edward had seen the other persons inthe box, who, be it remarked, were all standing. Richelieu's firstquestion was what had brought his young friend--as he was pleased tocall him--to Paris before the stipulated time. Edward, in his usualbrief style, explained all the circumstances, and, without hesitation,placed the two letters he had received in the minister's hands.Richelieu read them and smiled, saying, "So you are both still very muchin love with each other? Well, I have done one good work at least inlife _pour l'amour de Dieu_. Now, what do you intend to do, MonsieurLangdale?"
"To go post-haste to Venice, may it please your Eminence," repliedEdward; "and when I arrive there, as it will not want much more than sixweeks of the time I promised you not to seek her as my wife, I intend toask you to free me from that promise, let me claim her as my own, andtrust to my good luck and your power to sustain me."
The cardinal seemed half inclined to laugh. "Take her when you can gether," he said, with something more than a smile. "But you cannot get toVenice, my good boy, till the king opens the pass of Suza. Don't youknow that the very impracticable Duke of Savoy holds all the passesclosed and thinks he can resist the power of France?"
"By the Lord! I wish I had the power of France," said Edward: "I wouldsoon make him open them."
"Ha, ha!" said Richelieu, with a significant nod of the head. "Did I nottell you that one day you would become ambitious? But the power ofFrance is just as well as it is; and I think the king can open thepasses as well as you could. He has gone there now, and I am going afterhim to witness his victory. But hush! they are going to begin the play.Mark it well, and tell me what you think of it."
Almost as he spoke the comedy commenced, and Edward withdrew fromRichelieu's side into the little crowd behind. It was a piece of nogreat merit,--one of the failures of the great Corneille; and, to saythe truth, Edward's thoughts were deeply engaged with other things.
While he was trying to attend, however, his hand was gently pressed bysome one near, and, turning round, he beheld the diminutive figure ofMorini the Italian adventurer.
There was something in the man that Edward could not altogether dislike,especially after the kindness he had shown him on two or threeoccasions, and he shook hands with him warmly. The little man stood ontiptoes, and said, in a whisper, "Good fortune to you. You and thecardinal will always have good fortune unless you quarrel. Look justopposite. Did you ever see so beautiful a creature?"
Edward cast his eyes across the theatre, which was not very welllighted, and saw a group of ladies splendidly dressed and well deservingcommendation; but there was only one who struck him particularly, seatedsomewhat behind, and with the profile alone displayed. There wassomething, however, so exquisitely beautiful in the line of the face andthe whole turn of the head, that Edward moved a little on one side tosee her more distinctly. There, however, the head-dress of another ladyinterposed, and he was disappointed.
At that moment the first act ended, and Richelieu beckoned him to hisside again. "What are you staring at there, young man? What would yourLucette say? I am afraid you are faithless."
"Oh, no, my lord," replied Edward. "That lady is very beautiful, butLucette is more so,--to my mind at least."
"Do you think so?" said Richelieu. "I do not know which you were lookingat, but one of them is my niece, the Duchesse d'Aiguillon. What do youthink of the comedy?"
"Not much," replied Edward. "But I really am no judge, my lord."
"I think you are a good judge," said Richelieu, whose dislike toCorneille is well known. "Now I will tell you what you had better do. Goon with me to Suza. You can help to force the pass as a volunteer, ifyou like, and then proceed to Venice should you feel disposed. You shallhave Morini for a companion, and I will give you one of the king'sforagers to see that you are not starved on the road."
No proposal could be more agreeable to Edward Langdale; but there wasone impediment, which he frankly told the cardinal. As always happens,he had miscalculated his expenses, and found that the money he hadbrought from England would hardly suffice till he arrived at Venice. "Ican get more to-morrow, your Eminence, I believe," he said, "for I havefull authority to draw on my good friend Clement Tournon, whose creditis good in Paris; but that will take time; and your Eminence, I presume,sets out early."
"Not very early," answered Richelieu; "but if you follow me the next dayyou will catch me on the road. You can ride fast, I know, for you nearlykilled the poor Basques who were sent to ride after you when you leftNantes. Morini will help you to get the money. Don't you know he is analchemist, and can change any thing into gold? But he will take you tomy banker,--who is the best alchemist, after all. So Clement Tournontrusts you, does he? He is the first goldsmith of the kind, I fancy."
"I can well afford to pay him whatever he lends me now, my lord,"replied Edward. "For on one lucky day, which the Romans would havemarked with a white stone, I recovered the deeds which secured to me mymother's large property, which deeds had been lost for several years."
"What day was that?" asked Richelieu, in a somewhat eager tone.
Edward told him, for he remembered it well; and the cardinal immediatelycalled Morini to his side, and spoke to him for a moment or two in a lowtone.
"The very same day, your Eminence sees," replied Morini, with an air oftriumph. "Such small coincidences may be necessary to confirm yourbelief: with me it is not so. The stars never lie, my lord cardinal."
"If they speak at all, I suppose they do not," said Richelieu.
"They have spoken very plainly in this case," replied the astrologer."But the actors are going to begin again." And he was about to retire.
"Never mind," said the cardinal; "stay here. I have orders to give you,and I want them obeyed to the letter."
Edward knew that it was sometimes dangerous to overhear too much of theminister's conversation. He had heard of a man's finding his way intothe Bastille merely because he had been very near his Eminence while hewas conversing with a friend; and he therefore prudently withdrew to thefarther part of the box. While the second act went on, Richelieucontinued to talk with Morini, in a low tone, it is true, but with anindifference not at all complimentary to the actors or the piece. To thelast acts he was somewhat more attentive, but went away before the playwas concluded, merely saying to Edward as he passed, "Go with this goodsignor, Monsieur Langdale, and follow his counsels. He has heard myopinion upon several matters; and, until we meet again, you had betterbe guided by him even in what may seem things of small consequence."
Edward Langdale bowed, and the minister passed out; but Moriniapproached Edward's side, saying, "Let us go also, my young friend.There is no use of staying to see this stupid play."
The young gentleman's eyes, however, were fixed upon the opposite sideof the theatre, where the cardinal's niece and the ladies in her companywer
e also preparing to take their departure. He had caught anotherglance of that beautiful face, though it was but for a moment; and nowthe figure as she was moving away showed lines as lovely as the profile.Taller than most of her companions, and yet not very tall, everymovement seemed grace itself; and, just as she was passing the door, sheturned round and gave a quick glance at the cardinal's box, whichcertainly did not diminish the admiration of the young Englishman.
"How very beautiful the Duchess of Aiguillon is!" said Edward, turningto Morini.
"Oh, yes," replied the other. "She is perhaps the most beautiful womanin France. But take care of what you are about; for some people say thecardinal is in love with her himself, and he will bear no rival."
"Oh, love," said Edward, "is out of the question. I look at her, SignorMorini, merely as I should look at a beautiful statue. I love one, asyou know, fully as beautiful, and to me a thousand times more dear thanshe could ever become."
"Now you mention it," said Morini, "it strikes me there is some likenessbetween them."
"There is," said Edward; "but Lucette is much younger, and not so tall.Now I will follow you, my good sir." And they went out of the theatretogether.
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