Louise de la Valliere

by Alexandre Dumas

  Chapter X. Madame and De Guiche.

  It will not be forgotten how Comte de Guiche left the queen-mother'sapartments on the day when Louis XIV. presented La Valliere with thebeautiful bracelets he had won in the lottery. The comte walked to andfro for some time outside the palace, in the greatest distress, froma thousand suspicions and anxieties with which his mind was beset.Presently he stopped and waited on the terrace opposite the grove oftrees, watching for Madame's departure. More than half an hour passedaway; and as he was at that moment quite alone, the comte could hardlyhave had any very diverting ideas at his command. He drew his tablesfrom his pocket, and, after hesitating over and over again, determinedto write these words:--"Madame, I implore you to grant me one moment'sconversation. Do not be alarmed at this request, which contains nothingin any way opposed to the profound respect with which I subscribemyself, etc., etc." He had signed and folded this singular love-letter,when he suddenly observed several ladies leaving the chateau, andafterwards several courtiers too; in fact, almost every one that formedthe queen's circle. He saw La Valliere herself, then Montalais talkingwith Malicorne; he watched the departure of the very last of thenumerous guests that had a short time before thronged the queen-mother'scabinet.

  Madame herself had not yet passed; she would be obliged, however, tocross the courtyard in order to enter her own apartments; and, from theterrace where he was standing, De Guiche could see all that was going onin the courtyard. At last he saw Madame leave, attended by a coupleof pages, who were carrying torches before her. She was walking veryquickly; as soon as she reached the door, she said:

  "Let some one go and look for De Guiche: he has to render an accountof a mission he had to discharge for me; if he should be disengaged,request him to be good enough to come to my apartment."

  De Guiche remained silent, hidden in the shade; but as soon as Madamehad withdrawn, he darted from the terrace down the steps and assumed amost indifferent air, so that the pages who were hurrying towards hisrooms might meet him.

  "Ah! it is Madame, then, who is seeking me!" he said to himself, quiteovercome; and he crushed in his hand the now worse than useless letter.

  "M. le comte," said one of the pages, approaching him, "we are indeedmost fortunate in meeting you."

  "Why so, messieurs?"

  "A command from Madame."

  "From Madame!" said De Guiche, looking surprised.

  "Yes, M. le comte, her royal highness has been asking for you; sheexpects to hear, she told us, the result of a commission you had toexecute for her. Are you at liberty?"

  "I am quite at her royal highness's orders."

  "Will you have the goodness to follow us, then?"

  When De Guiche entered the princess's apartments, he found her pale andagitated. Montalais was standing at the door, evidently uneasy aboutwhat was passing in her mistress's mind. De Guiche appeared.

  "Ah! is that you, Monsieur de Guiche?" said Madame; "come in, I beg.Mademoiselle de Montalais, I do not require your attendance any longer."

  Montalais, more puzzled than ever, courtesied and withdrew. De Guicheand the princess were left alone. The comte had every advantage in hisfavor; it was Madame who had summoned him to a rendezvous. But how wasit possible for the comte to make use of this advantage? Madame was sowhimsical, and her disposition so changeable. She soon allowed this tobe perceived, for, suddenly, opening the conversation, she said: "Well!have you nothing to say to me?"

  He imagined she must have guessed his thoughts; he fancied (for thosewho are in love are thus constituted, being as credulous and blind aspoets or prophets), he fancied she knew how ardent was his desire to seeher, and also the subject uppermost in his mind.

  "Yes, Madame," he said, "and I think it very singular."

  "The affair of the bracelets," she exclaimed, eagerly, "you mean that, Isuppose?"

  "Yes, Madame."

  "And you think the king is in love; do you not?"

  Guiche looked at her for some time; her eyes sank under his gaze, whichseemed to read her very heart.

  "I think," he said, "that the king may possibly have had an idea ofannoying some one; were it not for that, the king would hardly showhimself so earnest in his attentions as he is; he would not run the riskof compromising, from mere thoughtlessness of disposition, a young girlagainst whom no one has been hitherto able to say a word."

  "Indeed! the bold, shameless girl," said the princess, haughtily.

  "I can positively assure your royal highness," said De Guiche, with afirmness marked by great respect, "that Mademoiselle de la Valliereis beloved by a man who merits every respect, for he is a brave andhonorable gentleman."

  "Bragelonne?"

  "My friend; yes, Madame."

  "Well, and though he is your friend, what does that matter to the king?"

  "The king knows that Bragelonne is affianced to Mademoiselle de laValliere; and as Raoul has served the king most valiantly, the king willnot inflict an irreparable injury upon him."

  Madame began to laugh in a manner that produced a sinister impressionupon De Guiche.

  "I repeat, Madame, I do not believe the king is in love withMademoiselle de la Valliere; and the proof that I do not believe it is,that I was about to ask you whose _amour propre_ it is likely the kingis desirous of wounding? You, who are well acquainted with the wholecourt, can perhaps assist me in ascertaining that; and assuredly, withgreater certainty, since it is everywhere said that your royal highnessis on very friendly terms with the king."

  Madame bit her lips, and, unable to assign any good and sufficientreasons, changed the conversation. "Prove to me," she said, fixing onhim one of those looks in which the whole soul seems to pass into theeyes, "prove to me, I say, that you intended to interrogate me at thevery moment I sent for you."

  De Guiche gravely drew from his pocket the now crumpled note that he hadwritten, and showed it to her.

  "Sympathy," she said.

  "Yes," said the comte, with an indescribable tenderness of tone,"sympathy. I have explained to you how and why I sought you; you,however, have yet to tell me, Madame, why you sent for me."

  "True," replied the princess. She hesitated, and then suddenlyexclaimed, "Those bracelets will drive me mad."

  "You expected the king would offer them to you," replied De Guiche.

  "Why not?"

  "But before you, Madame, before you, his sister-in-law, was there notthe queen herself to whom the king should have offered them?"

  "Before La Valliere," cried the princess, wounded to the quick, "couldhe not have presented them to me? Was there not the whole court, indeed,to choose from?"

  "I assure you, Madame," said the comte, respectfully, "that if any oneheard you speak in this manner, if any one were to see how red your eyesare, and, Heaven forgive me, to see, too, that tear trembling on youreyelids, it would be said that your royal highness was jealous."

  "Jealous!" said the princess, haughtily, "jealous of La Valliere!"

  She expected to see De Guiche yield beneath her scornful gesture and herproud tone; but he simply and boldly replied, "Jealous of La Valliere;yes, Madame."

  "Am I to suppose, monsieur," she stammered out, "that your object is toinsult me?"

  "It is not possible, Madame," replied the comte, slightly agitated, butresolved to master that fiery nature.

  "Leave the room!" said the princess, thoroughly exasperated, De Guiche'scoolness and silent respect having made her completely lose her temper.

  De Guiche fell back a step, bowed slowly, but with great respect, drewhimself up, looking as white as his lace cuffs, and, in a voice slightlytrembling, said, "It was hardly worth while to have hurried here to besubjected to this unmerited disgrace." And he turned away with hastysteps.

  He had scarcely gone half a dozen paces when Madame darted like atigress after him, seized him by the cuff, and making him turn roundagain, said, trembling with passion as she did so, "The respect youpretend to have is more insulting than the insult itself. Insult me, ifyou please, b
ut at least speak."

  "Madame," said the comte, gently, as he drew his sword, "thrust thisblade into my heart, rather than kill me by degrees."

  At the look he fixed upon her,--a look full of love, resolution, anddespair, even,--she knew how readily the comte, so outwardly calm inappearance, would pass his sword through his own breast if she addedanother word. She tore the blade from his hands, and, pressing his armwith a feverish impatience, which might pass for tenderness, said, "Donot be too hard upon me, comte. You see how I am suffering, and yet youhave no pity for me."

  Tears, the cries of this strange attack, stifled her voice. As soon asDe Guiche saw her weep, he took her in his arms and carried her to anarmchair; in another moment she would have been suffocated.

  "Oh, why," he murmured, as he knelt by her side, "why do you concealyour troubles from me? Do you love any one--tell me? It would kill me,I know, but not until I should have comforted, consoled, and served youeven."

  "And do you love me to that extent?" she replied, completely conquered.

  "I do indeed love you to that extent, Madame."

  She placed both her hands in his. "My heart is indeed another's," shemurmured in so low a tone that her voice could hardly be heard; but heheard it, and said, "Is it the king you love?"

  She gently shook her head, and her smile was like a clear bright streakin the clouds, through which after the tempest has passed one almostfancies Paradise is opening. "But," she added, "there are other passionsin a high-born heart. Love is poetry; but the real life of the heart ispride. Comte, I was born on a throne, I am proud and jealous of my rank.Why does the king gather such unworthy objects round him?"

  "Once more, I repeat," said the comte, "you are acting unjustly towardsthat poor girl, who will one day be my friend's wife."

  "Are you simple enough to believe that, comte?"

  "If I did not believe it," he said, turning very pale, "Bragelonneshould be informed of it to-morrow; indeed he should, if I thought thatpoor La Valliere had forgotten the vows she had exchanged with Raoul.But no, it would be cowardly to betray a woman's secret; it would becriminal to disturb a friend's peace of mind."

  "You think, then," said the princess, with a wild burst of laughter,"that ignorance is happiness?"

  "I believe it," he replied.

  "Prove it to me, then," she said, hurriedly.

  "It is easily done, Madame. It is reported through the whole court thatthe king loves you, and that you return his affection."

  "Well?" she said, breathing with difficulty.

  "Well; admit for a moment that Raoul, my friend, had come and said tome, 'Yes, the king loves Madame, and has made an impression upon herheart,' I possibly should have slain Raoul."

  "It would have been necessary," said the princess, with the obstinacy ofa woman who feels herself not easily overcome, "for M. de Bragelonne tohave had proofs before he ventured to speak to you in that manner."

  "Such, however, is the case," replied De Guiche, with a deep sigh,"that, not having been warned, I have never examined into the matterseriously; and I now find that my ignorance has saved my life."

  "So, then, you drive selfishness and coldness to that extent," saidMadame, "that you would let this unhappy young man continue to love LaValliere?"

  "I would, until La Valliere's guilt were revealed."

  "But the bracelets?"

  "Well, Madame, since you yourself expected to receive them from theking, what can I possibly say?"

  The argument was a telling one, and the princess was overwhelmed by it,and from that moment her defeat was assured. But as her heart andmind were instinct with noble and generous feelings, she understood DeGuiche's extreme delicacy. She saw that in his heart he really suspectedthat the king was in love with La Valliere, and that he did not wishto resort to the common expedient of ruining a rival in the mind ofa woman, by giving the latter the assurance and certainty that thisrival's affections were transferred to another woman. She guessed thathis suspicions of La Valliere were aroused, and that, in order to leavehimself time for his convictions to undergo a change, so as not to ruinLouise utterly, he was determined to pursue a certain straightforwardline of conduct. She could read so much real greatness of character, andsuch true generosity of disposition in her lover, that her heart reallywarmed with affection towards him, whose passion for her was so pure anddelicate. Despite his fear of incurring her displeasure, De Guiche, byretaining his position as a man of proud independence of feeling anddeep devotion, became almost a hero in her estimation, and reduced herto the state of a jealous and little-minded woman. She loved him forthis so tenderly, that she could not refuse to give him a proof of heraffection.

  "See how many words we have wasted," she said, taking his hand,"suspicions, anxieties, mistrust, sufferings--I think we have enumeratedall those words."

  "Alas! Madame, yes."

  "Efface them from your heart as I drive them from mine. Whether LaValliere does or does not love the king, and whether the king doesor does not love La Valliere--from this moment you and I will draw adistinction in the two characters I have to perform. You open your eyesso wide that I am sure you hardly understand me."

  "You are so impetuous, Madame, that I always tremble at the fear ofdispleasing you."

  "And see how he trembles now, poor fellow," she said, with the mostcharming playfulness of manner. "Yes, monsieur, I have two charactersto perform. I am the sister of the king, the sister-in-law of theking's wife. In this character ought I not to take an interest in thesedomestic intrigues? Come, tell me what you think?"

  "As little as possible, Madame."

  "Agreed, monsieur; but it is a question of dignity; and then, youknow, I am the wife of the king's brother." De Guiche sighed. "Acircumstance," she added, with an expression of great tenderness, "whichwill remind you that I am always to be treated with the profoundestrespect." De Guiche fell at her feet, which he kissed, with thereligious fervor of a worshipper. "And I begin to think that, really andtruly, I have another character to perform. I was almost forgetting it."

  "Name it, oh! name it," said De Guiche.

  "I am a woman," she said, in a voice lower than ever, "and I love."He rose, she opened her arms, and their lips met. A footstep was heardbehind the tapestry, and Mademoiselle de Montalais appeared.

  "What do you want?" said Madame.

  "M. de Guiche is wanted," replied Montalais, who was just in time to seethe agitation of the actors of these four characters; for De Guiche hadconsistently carried out his part with heroism.