The Black Wolf's Breed

by Harris Dickson

  CHAPTER XIV

  THE SECRETARY AND THE DUKE

  Those reflections which I set down at the end of the last paragraphdrifted me somewhat from the regular thread of my narrative. This,perhaps, is not the only reason why I should stumble and shy along likea balky palfrey when I approach one of the trifling accidents whichtranspired immediately after our arrival at Sceaux.

  Thinking now this matter over, my withered cheeks lose their ashen hue,and burn again with the hot, tumultuous blood of youth and shame. ButI may as well tell it with all the resolution a man summons beforeplunging into an icy bath at midwinter. It came, the unexpectedprelude to one long, sweet song. It was in this wise:

  Jerome seemed a welcome guest at Sceaux, and from the hearty greetings,yet respectful withal, which were accorded him, must have been a man ofmore consideration in the world than I had heretofore supposed. Beforethis, I received him at his own worth, and our short acquaintance hadbeen so filled with matters of serious moment, I made no inquiriesbeyond the scant stray bits of information he had himself volunteered.However that might be, his welcome at Sceaux was sincere. Nor did Iwonder at his being a favorite, from the jovial jests and flings hecast at those who crowded round, which set them all a-laughing. Hisfamiliarity with the doings of the day, and the quick repartee he usedto men of different parties, astonished me greatly.

  Having disposed of our horses, and given quiet orders to the groom,Jerome made me acquainted with his friends. Some part of theirgood-fellowship fell to my lot as a friend of Jerome's, and put me uponmy mettle to return it.

  As good luck would have it, Jerome's friend, the Chevalier Charles dela Mora, was then at Sceaux, and came up early on learning of ourarrival.

  He was a splendid fellow of thirty-five, stalwart and unusuallygraceful for a man of his inches. His frank and cordial manner was hisgreatest charm to me, though a woman would doubtless have raved moreover those dark, dreamy eyes, which while mild enough, betimes gavepromise of fire and to spare.

  He spoke most affectionately to Jerome, and bade us both be sure hiswife would receive us with sincerest pleasure. Several of thegentlemen had seen service, and with them I was immediately on easyterms.

  Before entering the Villa I paused in a doorway at the head of a shortflight of steps, bowing and posturing through my new catalogue ofbehavior, anxiously watching for Jerome's approval, or a cue. Therascal, I could not for the life of me tell from his expression whetherhe applauded my fine manners or laughed secretly at the folly of itall. But I went on as I was taught, bending myself pretty well double,half backing into the door which led to an inner hall. Holding thisposition, which however elegant it might have appeared to those infront, was certainly neither graceful or attractive viewed from within,I felt a sudden jar from the rear, and being thus struck at a point ofvantage, came near to plunging forward upon my face. Before I couldrecover my equilibrium and turn about, I heard the jingle of a tray ofglasses and a cool shower of spray flew about my ears. Then the dazedand bewildered eyes of a timid girl looked full into mine; shecourageously paused and essayed to stammer out an apology. Her gaze,though, wandered past me, and one sight of the drawn features of thosewho had seen it all and now sought in vain to restrain their laughter,was too much for this startled fawn. She turned and fled as the wind,just when their merry peal burst out.

  "Well, my little lady had best look where she goes, and not run througha door with her eyes behind her," roared de Virelle, when the girl hadwell escaped.

  "His clothes are ruined, and so fine, ah, so fine," drawled Miron.

  "By my soul, Captain, you have flowers to spare," chimed in Le Rue."That's right, gather them up, for Mademoiselle is not usually sogenerous with her guerdons that any should be lost. The little icicle."

  His speech was suited to my actions, for, like a fool, I had alreadydropped upon my knees, busied about picking up the scattered roses andreplacing them in the vases from which they had fallen. The tray wasstill rolling and rattling around on the floor. Verily, I felt myshame must consume me, and took refuge in this humble occupation tohide my face. There is some sort of a confused recollection nowabiding with me, that a man-servant at length came to sweep up thefragments, while I watched him vacantly, a tangled bunch of roses in myhand.

  In all their laughs and jests and jibes hurled at my embarrassment,Jerome never for a moment lost sight of the main purpose of our visit.As all roads led to Rome, so did he adroitly turn all topics ofconversation into those channels where might be supposed to run theinformation we wanted.

  I felt myself, especially in my present frame of mind, ill-fitted forsuch a play. The blunt and awkward directness of the camp suitedbetter my ways and speech. Though I might discreetly hold my tongue, Icould never use it with the credit I could my sword. Nor could I ridmy mind of the childish vision which for one short instant confrontedme at the door. Even then I pondered more on her amazed expression andyouthful innocence than upon our own chances for success or failure.

  From the comments of those about me, I gathered she was a protege ofMadame's, whose reserved manners made her no great favorite with thedissolute throng which collected at the gay Villa of Sceaux. I tooklittle part in their conversation, and was glad when Jerome by agesture called me to follow him away.

  "Let us go to see Madame," he said simply, when we were entirely out ofhearing.

  "Du Maine?" I inquired, vaguely wondering why we should venture intothe lion's den.

  "No--Madame--the other," he replied with some degree of hesitation.

  I followed him without further questioning. He led the way, which wasdoubtless a familiar one, and the maid at the door, knowing him,admitted us at once to Madame's apartment. The woman, who sat alone inthe dainty silk-hung boudoir, rose and came swiftly forward to greetJerome, the radiant girlish smile changing quickly when she perceivedme enter behind him. It was more the grande dame, and less thedelighted woman, who acknowledged my presentation with courtly grace.Intuitively I felt her unvoiced inquiry of Jerome why he had not comealone. Yet was she thoroughly polite, and chatted pleasantly with usconcerning the news of the day.

  "We are to have a fete this afternoon; you must both come. Each guestis expected to contribute in some way to the entertainment of thecompany. You Jerome--M. de Greville," she begged pardon with a suddenglance at me, "You, M. de Greville, will doubtless favor us with awell-turned madrigal. And you, my dear Captain de Mouret, in whichdirection do your talents lie?"

  "I have no talents, Madame; a plain blunt man of the camp."

  "Ah! a soldier; so interesting in these stupid times, when men arelittle but women differently dressed. Ah, it has been too truly saidthat 'when men were created, some of the mud which remained served tofashion the souls of princes and lackeys.' But surely you could giveus a story?" and so she talked on, not discourteous, but heedless of myprotests. I was really alarmed, lest she seriously call upon me beforethat stately company.

  The tiny clock upon her table chimed the third quarter, and shevolunteered that at eleven she expected other callers. Acting uponthis hint Jerome proceeded at once to tell her why we came, yet I notedin all his confidences he ever kept something to himself for safety'ssake. The maid's reappearance interrupted us. She announced, "M. deValence."

  A gleam of anger swept across Madame's face.

  "Bid him wait my pleasure in the ante-room. He is ten minutes early.No, the sooner he comes the sooner it is over; wait; bid him come in.M. le Captain, de Greville, will you gentlemen please to retire in thatsmall room for a short space? I will speedily be free again."

  And so it came about we overheard matters which opened my mind to theway affairs of state are managed, and I grew to learn upon what slenderthreads of love, of malice, of jealousy and of hate the destinies ofnations must often hang. From our situation we could not help but hearall that passed between Madame and her caller. The maid withdrew, inthe slow hurry of a truant on his way to school, but hastened at a signof annoyanc
e from Madame.

  "Monsieur de Valence, you are full ten minutes early. You know I badeyou be always exactly punctual," was Madame's petulant greeting of thehandsome man who bore himself so meekly in her presence.

  No tone was ever colder, no demeanor more haughty than hers, and thisproud man who bent before no storm, who held the fortunes of manywithin his grasp, bowed like an obedient child to her whim.

  "Yes, Celeste, I know, but--"

  "Madame de Chartrain," she corrected. (I use the name de Chartrain,though it was not her own.)

  "Yes--Madame, I know, but, it is so hard to wait; do you not understandhow I count the minutes every day until--"

  "Yes, yes, I've heard all those fine excuses before. To your business.The other can wait, business first, then--"

  "Pleasure?" he supplemented with an eagerness strangely at variancewith the rigid self-control he had hitherto shown.

  "I did not say pleasure," she gravely broke in, "your business."

  The man submitted with the patience of one quite accustomed, yet notwholly resigned to such a reception, and spread numerous papers uponthe table before her. Selecting one he began to explain:

  "Your wishes in regard to this matter have been carried out; I had theman detained in the city where he is at your command. He suspectsnothing, though fretful at the restraint."

  "Very good. And the other?"

  "Yes, here it is. You see this has been so arranged that the Dukequite naturally selected Menezes to bear these dispatches. You mayremind him that Menezes is a brother of the man Perrault, whom he hadhanged some years ago. Here is the man's history, which you can lookover at leisure. The Duke has forgotten all this in his impatience toremedy the Yvard fiasco. It will serve, however, to make him think youeven more clever and devoted to him."

  I listened closely at the name "Yvard."

  "Well, now so far so good. And the question of finance? That is ofmore importance."

  "And of more difficulty. The Madame often dabbles herself in thesedealings involving money, and she is harder to deceive. However she isnot accurate at figures, clever though she be otherwise. Look overthis; this calculation. See, there is a simple transposition of anitem, which results in a difference of near ten thousand livres. Itappears there to have been made by the money lender for his greatergain. You can study this copy before the Duke comes. Then you will bequite prepared to point out this error and make the correction. Hereis his copy which he will sign."

  "Ah, good," she said looking over the memorandum he had given her ofthe amounts, with the correct calculations all neatly carried out.

  "Well, that is enough for this morning; you may go; these things wearyme."

  "Celeste, Celeste, how long is this to continue? will you never--"

  "_Madame_," she corrected positively, rumpling and smoothing out againthe paper in her lap.

  "As you will," with an air of hopeless protest. "Do you mean always tosend me away when our business is completed--?"

  "Was it not our agreement?"

  "Yes, but I thought--"

  "You had no right to think."

  "A man must needs think whether he will or no, what is of life itself.Are you a woman of ice? Do you not realize I sell all I hold mostdear, the confidence born of a life-time's honest service to my King,my own honor, only to serve you, to be with you?"

  "I am weary. It is time for you to go."

  "Yes, but is there nothing else? You agreed--"

  "Oh, I know, why remind me?" She turned upon him fiercely. "Do youwish to make me hate you? Now you are only an object of indifference,objectionable to me as are all men who make love, and sigh, and worryme. Do you wish me to hate and despise you more than the rest?"

  "God forbid! But--"

  "You still insist?"

  "Yes, I must have my thirty pieces of silver, the price of mytreachery," de Valence returned bitterly; "men die in the Bastille forlesser offenses than mine."

  "That is your affair," the woman replied, without a shade of concern.

  I thought I could perceive a growing embarrassment in her manner as deValence came closer to her, remembering, for so she must, that we couldhear every word through the portiere. She collected herself bravely;de Valence must not suspect.

  "Come, I'll pay you," and she put her lips upward so coolly I wonderedhe should care to touch them. Jerome raged silently, for I confess wewere both guilty of looking as well as listening. De Valence leanedover her, but lifted his head again.

  "Celeste--Madame, so cold. I'd as lief kiss the marble lips of Dianain the park."

  "Oh, as you please; you may kiss them, too, if you like," she shruggedher shoulders, and was not pretty for the instant. "I pay as Ipromise; it is a mere barter of commodities. You may take or leave itas you choose."

  The man's attitude of dejection touched even me, but the woman gave nosign of feeling or compassion, only intense impatience.

  "Well, Monsieur, am I to sit waiting an hour? Are you come to be asordid huckster to wrangle over your price?"

  De Valence bent over her again, touched the lips lightly, and strodeaway, gathering up his papers from the table as he went. Two only wereleft, and those Madame held listlessly in her hand.

  We felt thoroughly conscious of our guilt, Jerome and I, when we putaside the screen and re-entered the room. There was a certain air ofresentment in his manner, as if he would call her to account, and Iheartily wished myself otherwhere. Perhaps it was all for the best; mypresence prevented, for the time, explanations, and I fancied the womanwas grateful for the respite. Her lassitude, and effort to overcomeit, smote me to the quick, and right willingly I would have aided herhad I but the power. To Jerome she spoke:

  "You heard--all?"

  He nodded.

  "And saw?" Less resolutely this question came. The words conveyed thewish, unexpressed, that he had not heard. To me she gave no thought.Again Jerome nodded, and looked away.

  "It is the penalty and the price of power. Oh, Jerome, how fervently Ihave prayed that this all had not been," she went on oblivious of mypresence.

  Jerome's resentment faded away at her mute appeal for sympathy, and Iam very sure he would not have me chronicle all that then occurred.Suffice it, that I employed myself by the window, some minutes perhaps,until a hasty rap on the door, and the maid bore a message which shedelivered to her mistress in secret.

  "Bid him come in at once if it please him."

  "He is already here, madame," the girl replied.

  We had barely time to gain our former hiding place before a man richlydressed, and limping, entered; the same I had seen in the gardens ofVersailles. I was now intensely interested in this little drama,which, as it were, was being played for my own benefit, and gave closerstudy to the Duke of Maine who hurried in.

  The weak, irresolute face bore no trace of the dignity and power whichmade his royal father at times truly great; it showed, too, but littleinheritance from the proud beauty of de Montespan. Vastly inferior toboth, and to his ambitious wife whose schemes he adopted when theysucceeded and disowned when they failed, the Duke trembled now upon theverge of a mighty intrigue which perchance would make him master of anempire, perchance consign him to the Bastille or to the block. Well heknew that the abandoned Philip of Orleans, though he sometimes forgothis friends, never spared an enemy. With these thoughts haunting him,his timid mind shrank from putting his fortunes to a decisive test, andhe looked forward, dreading to see the increasing feebleness of theKing hasten that day when a quick stroke must win or lose.

  He approached Madame at the table with a semblance of that swaggeraffected by the weakling in presence of women, yet permitting thewandering eye and uncertain gestures to betray his uneasiness.Something had evidently gone wrong with my lord.

  "Have you heard, Celeste, of Yvard?" he inquired, dropping into a seat.

  My ears quickened at the familiar name.

  "Well, what of him?"

  "He has lost the Lou
isiana dispatches, and I know not what theycontained."

  "What!" exclaimed the woman, as if genuinely alarmed, and learning thebad news at first hand.

  "Yes, the cursed fool lost them in some drunken brawl in the city. Wehave had the place thoroughly searched, but--" he finished the sentencewith a shrug to express his failure.

  "What if they should reach Orleans?" he continued evenly. "My men fearhe has gone to him anyway, hoping to play in with both for pardon. I'dfeel much safer could we only lay our hands upon him. He is the oneman beside ourselves here who knows--who knows, anything," the Dukewent on with growing trepidation.

  "Well, make yourself comfort, my lord, I took the responsibility todetain Yvard in Paris."

  "You?" he sprang from his chair in astonishment. "You? Why? How?"

  "I thought your safety demanded it. My lord is too generous, tooconfiding," she threw toward him a glance of concern poor de Valancewould have periled his soul to win. "You see, when we entrusted himwith this business, it was so delicate a mission, I set a watch uponhim--some of my own people of Anjou--and when he acted negligently theyreported to me. He began drinking, too, and freely, so I feared hisdiscretion. I now have the man safe in Paris. What would my lord withhim?"

  Du Maine fixed his cold eyes upon her, for a short space, then,

  "It would be prudent to put him quietly out of the way," he suggested,the thin lips closing cruelly. "No, hold him, we may have further needfor his sword. But have a care that he talks to no one."

  Madame had raised no objection to the Duke's cool command that an endbe made of Yvard, yet I did her the credit to suppose it was becauseshe well knew she might do as she liked, and he be none the wiser.

  He now settled himself upon a divan near Madame, with all thecomplacency of a man whose own foresight has saved him a serioustrouble, and said after mature deliberation, gazing thoughtfully at thesportive cherubs on the ceiling:

  "Well, it could not have been so bad after all, for I observed thecaution to prepare a warning for our friends across the frontier, andhad arranged for a friend of ours to be entrapped by Orleans, betrayingmisleading dispatches to him. A fine plan, think you? Menezes youknow is devoted to me, and I have promised him a patent."

  "Who did your grace say was to be this friend?"

  "Menezes."

  "Why Menezes?"

  "I have done much for the fellow, and he is not over clever; cleverenough for the purpose, you know, but--"

  "Does my lord not remember Menezes is a brother of the Perrault whomyou had hanged some years ago? I fear you have been badly advised."

  "No! I do not recall him."

  "The rogue who cast a stone at your horse?"

  "Ah, I bring him to mind. Short, thick-set fellow, who whinedsomething about hunger, children, and the cold. Ugh! What concernhave I with the rabble? But how do you know this, Celeste?"

  "I have long misdoubted him, and had the rascal overlooked. He is ofPicardy, and his father was attached to St. Andre, who likes not HisGrace, the Duke of Maine."

  "No, by my faith, he hates me. Ah, I see it all. Celeste, you shouldhave been a man, a man's wit almost you have. Really, so much brain iswasted in that pretty head of yours. Madame will come to comprehendshe does not know it all--yet she torments me till I give in. I thinkI shall take firmer hold, and manage my own affairs to better advantagethan she. Ugh! What a scrape she was like to get me in."

  He gradually regained the expression of complete satisfaction withhimself, and prepared now to show the masterpiece of his work, thecontract with Antonio of Modena, the money-lender.

  "Here are our financial plans; the usury is high, but there is greatrisk, so thinks Antonio; egad! perhaps he is right, though it ispossible we may pay him. Altogether a most excellent plan, my ownwork----."

  Madame interrupted him, thinking perhaps it was wise that he should notbe committed too far that he could not throw the blame on othershoulders. She took advantage of a pause to examine the document withapparent care.

  "Yes, excellent, but let us see. Three, seven, twelve, fourteen,twenty-three--here is some mistake. Let us go over it again. Yes,here it is. This is not your accounting. The miserly Lombard wouldcozen you of your honor if he could but sell it again. Here is anerror of near ten thousand livres; let me correct it for you."

  And while he stared at her she deftly copied the correct amounts fromthe slip she held concealed in her hand. She knew the figures were hisown, but gave no token.

  "I doubt not you would have looked over it more carefully before yousigned it, and these matters would have been detected by your own eyes."

  "Yes, yes," he replied nervously, reaching out his hand for the paperlest she observe--what her quick eyes had at first seen--that thecontract already bore his signature and seal. She gave it him and hereplaced it carefully in his breast.

  "I will give those careless secretaries a lesson they sorely need," andin this disturbed condition of mind he blustered out of the apartment,forgetting his usual gallantries, which Madame so diplomatically putaside without giving too serious offense.

  Jerome leaned against the window-facing, his unseeing eyes resting onthe park beyond the little garden at our feet. His brow lowered, notas of a storm, but with the murkiness of a settled and dismal day.Perchance his thoughts wandered with his childhood's sweetheart amidthe fertile vales of far away Anjou. Nothing was more distant from himthan the gilded furnishings, the frescoes, the marble Venus at hiselbow. Beside her table, alone, and abstracted as Jerome, the womantoyed with a dainty fan; her impassive beauty, born of rigid training,betrayed not the inner desolation. Her face was calm and seriousenough, the skin lay smooth and glowed with all those delicate tintsthat women love.

  Her quietude reminded me of the slumbering ocean, glassy and tranquil,whose unmarred surface conveyed no hint of sunken ships beneath, ofcold dumb faces tossing in the brine, of death-abysses where wrecksabandoned lie.

  I slipped away without rousing a protest from Jerome, and closing thedoor softly left them to their meditations and to each other.