CHAPTER XLI.
THE PROMENADE BY TORCHLIGHT.
Saint-Aignan, delighted with what he had just heard, and rejoiced atwhat the future foreshadowed for him, bent his steps toward De Guiche'stwo rooms. He who, a quarter of an hour previously, would not haveyielded up his own rooms for a million of francs, was now ready toexpend a million, if it were necessary, upon the acquisition of the twohappy rooms he coveted so eagerly. But he did not meet with so manyobstacles. M. de Guiche did not yet know whereabouts he was to lodge,and, besides, was still far too suffering to trouble himself about hislodgings; and so Saint-Aignan obtained De Guiche's two rooms withoutdifficulty. As for M. Dangeau, he was so immeasurably delighted that hedid not even give himself the trouble to think whether Saint-Aignan hadany particular reason for removing. Within an hour after Saint-Aignan'snew resolution, he was in possession of the two rooms; and ten minuteslater Malicorne entered, followed by the upholsterers. During this time,the king asked for Saint-Aignan: the valet ran to his late apartmentsand found M. Dangeau there; Dangeau sent him on to De Guiche's, andSaint-Aignan was found there; but a little delay had of course takenplace, and the king had already exhibited once or twice evident signs ofimpatience, when Saint-Aignan entered his royal master's presence, quiteout of breath. "You, too, abandon me, then," said Louis XIV., in asimilar tone of lamentation to that with which Caesar, eighteen hundredyears previously, had used the _tu quoque_.
"Sire, I am very far from abandoning you; for, on the contrary, I ambusily occupied in changing my lodgings."
"What do you mean? I thought you had finished moving three days ago."
"Yes, sire; but I don't find myself comfortable where I am, and so I amgoing to change to the opposite side of the building."
"Was I not right when I said you were abandoning me!" exclaimed theking. "Oh! this exceeds all endurance! But so it is. There was only onewoman for whom my heart cared at all, and all my family is leaguedtogether to tear her from me; and my friend, to whom I confided mydistress, and who helped me to bear up under it, has become wearied ofmy complaints, and is going to leave me without even asking mypermission."
Saint-Aignan began to laugh. The king at once guessed there must be somemystery in this want of respect. "What is it?" cried the king, full ofhope.
"This, sire, that the friend whom the king calumniates is going to tryif he cannot restore to his sovereign the happiness he has lost."
"Are you going to let me see La Valliere?" said Louis XIV.
"I cannot say so, positively, but I hope so."
"How--how?--tell me that, Saint-Aignan. I wish to know what your projectis, and to help you with all my power."
"Sire," replied Saint-Aignan, "I cannot, even myself, tell very well howI must set about attaining success; but I have every reason to believethat from to-morrow--"
"To-morrow, do you say! What happiness! But why are you changing yourrooms?"
"In order to serve your majesty to greater advantage."
"How can your moving serve me?"
"Do you happen to know where the two rooms destined for De Guiche aresituated?"
"Yes."
"Well, your majesty now knows where I am going."
"Very likely; but that does not help me."
"What! is it possible you do not understand, sire, that above DeGuiche's lodgings are two rooms, one of which is Mademoiselle deMontalais's, and the other--"
"La Valliere's, is it not so, Saint-Aignan? Oh! yes, yes. It is abrilliant idea. Saint-Aignan, at true friend's idea, a poet's idea; inbringing me nearer her from whom the whole world seems to unite toseparate me; you are far more than Pylades was for Orestes, or Patroclusfor Achilles."
"Sire," said Aignan, with a smile, "I question whether, if your majestywere to know my projects in their full extent, you would continue toconfer such pompous qualifications upon me. Ah! sire, I know how verydifferent are the epithets which certain Puritans of the court will notfail to apply to me when they learn what I intend to do for yourmajesty."
"Saint-Aignan, I am dying from impatience; I am in a perfect fever; Ishall never be able to wait until to-morrow--To-morrow! why to-morrow isan eternity!"
"And yet, sire, I shall require you, if you please, to go out presentlyand divert your impatience by a good walk."
"With you--agreed; we will talk about your projects, we will talk ofher."
"Nay, sire; I remain here."
"Whom shall I go out with, then?"
"With the queens and all the ladies of the court."
"Nothing shall induce me to do that Saint-Aignan."
"And yet, sire, you must do it."
"No, no--a thousand times, no! I will never again expose myself to thehorrible torture of being close to her, of seeing her, of touching herdress as I pass by her, and yet not to be able to say a word to her. No,I renounce a torture which you suppose to be happiness, but whichconsumes and eats away my very life; to see her in the presence ofstrangers and not to tell her that I love her, when my whole beingreveals my affection and betrays me to every one; no! I have sworn neverto do it again, and I will keep my oath."
"Yet, sire, pray listen to me for a moment."
"I will listen to nothing, Saint-Aignan."
"In that case, I will continue; it is most urgent, sire--pray understandme, it is of the greatest importance--that Madame and her maids of honorshould be absent for two hours from the palace."
"I cannot understand your meaning at all, Saint-Aignan."
"It is hard for me to give my sovereign directions what to do; but inthis circumstance I do give you directions, sire; and either a huntingor promenade party must be got up."
"But if I were to do what you wish, it would be a caprice, a mere whim.In displaying such an impatient humor I show my whole court that I haveno control over my own feelings. Do not people already say that I amdreaming of the conquest of the world, but that I ought previously tobegin by achieving a conquest over myself."
"Those who say so, sire, are insolent and factious persons; but whoeverthey may be, if your majesty prefers to listen to them, I have nothingfurther to say. In such a case, that which we have fixed to take placeto-morrow must be postponed indefinitely."
"Nay, Saint-Aignan, I will go out this evening--I will go by torchlightto sleep at St. Germain; I will breakfast there to-morrow, and willreturn to Paris by three o'clock. Will that do?"
"Admirably."
"In that case I will set out this evening at eight o'clock."
"Your majesty has fixed upon the exact minute."
"And you positively will tell me nothing more?"
"It is because I have nothing more to tell you. Industry goes forsomething in this world, sire; but yet chance plays so important a partin it that I have been accustomed to leave her the narrowest part,confident that she will manage so as to always take the widest."
"Well, I abandon myself entirely to you."
"And you are quite right."
Comforted in this manner, the king went immediately to Madame, to whomhe announced the intended expedition. Madame fancied at the first momentthat she saw in this unexpectedly arranged party a plot of the king's toconverse with La Valliere, either on the road under cover of thedarkness, or in some other way, but she took especial care to shownothing of her fancies to her brother-in-law, and accepted theinvitation with a smile upon her lips. She gave directions aloud thather maids of honor should accompany her, secretly intending in theevening to take the most effectual steps to interfere with his majesty'sattachment. Then, when she was alone, and at the very moment the poorlover, who had issued his orders for the departure, was reveling in theidea that Mademoiselle de la Valliere would form one of the party--atthe very moment, perhaps, when he was luxuriating in the sad happinesswhich persecuted lovers enjoy of realizing by the sense of sight aloneall the delights of an interdicted possession--at that very moment, wesay, Madame, who was surrounded by her maids of honor, said: "Two ladieswill be enough for me this evening, Mademoiselle de Tonnay-Charente
andMademoiselle de Montalais."
La Valliere had anticipated the omission of herself and was prepared forit; but persecution had rendered her courageous, and she did not giveMadame the pleasure of seeing on her face the impression of the shockher heart had received. On the contrary, smiling with that ineffablegentleness which gave an angelic expression to her features--"In thatcase, madame, I shall be at liberty this evening, I suppose?" she said.
"Of course."
"I shall be able to employ it, then, in progressing with that piece oftapestry which your highness has been good enough to notice, and which Ihave already had the honor of offering to you."
And having made a respectful obeisance, she withdrew to her ownapartment; Mesdemoiselles de Tonnay-Charente and de Montalais did thesame. The rumor of the intended promenade was soon spread all over thepalace; ten minutes afterward Malicorne learned Madame's resolution, andslipped under Montalais' door a note, in the following terms:
"La Valliere must positively pass the night with Madame."
Montalais, in pursuance of the compact she had entered into, began byburning the paper, and then sat down to reflect. Montalais was a girlfull of expedients, and so had very soon arranged her plan. Toward fiveo'clock, which was the hour for her to repair to Madame's apartment, shewas running across the courtyard, and had reached within a dozen paces agroup of officers, when she uttered a cry, fell gracefully on one knee,rose again, and walked on limpingly. The gentlemen ran forward to herassistance; Montalais had sprained her foot. Faithful to the dischargeof her duty, she insisted, however, notwithstanding her accident, upongoing to Madame's apartment.
"What is the matter, and why do you limp so?" she inquired: "I mistookyou for La Valliere."
Montalais related how it had happened, that in hurrying on, in order toarrive as quickly as possible, she had sprained her foot. Madame seemedto pity her, and wished to have a surgeon sent for immediately, but she,assuring her that there was nothing really serious in the accident,said, "My only regret, madame, is that it will preclude my attendance onyou, and I should have begged Mademoiselle de la Valliere to take myplace with your royal highness, but--" Seeing that Madame frowned, sheadded, "I have not done so."
"Why did you not do so?" inquired Madame.
"Because poor La Valliere seemed so happy to have her liberty for awhole evening and night too, that I did not feel courageous enough toask her to take my place."
"What! is she so delighted as that?" inquired Madame, struck by thesewords.
"She is wild with delight; she, who is always so melancholy, was singinglike a bird. Besides, your highness knows how much she detests goingout, and also that her character has a spice of wildness in it."
"Oh, oh!" thought Madame, "this extreme delight hardly seems natural tome."
"She has already made all her preparations for dining in her own roomtete-a-tete with one of her favorite books. And then, as your highnesshas six other young ladies who would be delighted to accompany you, Idid not make my proposal to La Valliere." Madame did not say a word inreply.
"Have I acted properly?" continued Montalais, with a slight flutteringof the heart, seeing the little success that attended the _ruse deguerre_ which she had relied upon with so much confidence that she hadnot thought it even necessary to try and find another. "Does Madameapprove of what I have done?" she continued.
Madame was reflecting that the king could very easily leaveSaint-Germain during the night, and that, as it was only four leaguesand a half from Paris to Saint-Germain, he might very easily be in Parisin an hour's time. "Tell me," she said, "whether La Valliere, when sheheard of your accident, offered at least to bear you company?"
"Oh! she does not yet know of my accident; but even did she know of it,I should not most certainty ask her to do anything which might interferewith her own plans. I think she wishes this evening to realize quietlyby herself that amusement of the late king, when he said to M. deCinq-Mars, 'Let us amuse ourselves by doing-nothing and making ourselvesmiserable.'"
Madame felt convinced that some mysterious love adventure was hiddenbeneath this strong desire for solitude. This mystery might possibly beLouis's return during the night; it could not be doubted any longer--LaValliere had been informed of his intended return, and that was thereason of her delight at having to remain behind at the Palais Royal. Itwas a plan settled and arranged beforehand.
"I will not be their dupe, though," said Madame; and she took a decisivestep. "Mademoiselle de Montalais," she said, "Will you have the goodnessto inform your friend, Mademoiselle de la Valliere, that I amexceedingly sorry to disarrange her projects of solitude, but thatinstead of becoming _ennuyee_ by remaining behind alone as she wished,she will be good enough to accompany us to Saint-Germain and get_ennuyee_ there."
"Ah! poor La Valliere," said Montalais, compassionately, but with herheart throbbing with delight; "oh, madame, could there not be somemeans--"
"Enough," said Madame, "I desire it! I prefer Mademoiselle la Baume leBlanc's society to that of any one else. Go and send her to me, and takecare of your foot."
Montalais did not wait for the order to be repeated; she returned to herroom, wrote an answer to Malicorne, and slipped it under the carpet. Theanswer simply said: "She is going." A Spartan could not have writtenmore laconically.
"By this means," thought Madame, "I will look narrowly after all on theroad; she shall sleep near me during the night, and his majesty must bevery clever if he can exchange a single word with Mademoiselle de laValliere."
La Valliere received the order to set off with the same indifferentgentleness with which she had received the order to remain. But inwardlyher delight was extreme, and she looked upon this change in theprincess's resolution as a consolation which Providence had sent her.With less penetration than Madame possessed, she attributed all tochance. While everyone, with the exception of those in disgrace, ofthose who were ill, and those who were suffering from sprains, wereproceeding toward Saint-Germain, Malicorne smuggled his workman into thepalace in one of M. de Saint-Aignan's carriages, and led him into theroom corresponding to La Valliere's room. The man set to work, temptedby the splendid reward which had been promised him. As the very besttools and implements had been selected from the reserve stock belongingto the engineers attached to the king's household--and among others asaw with teeth so sharp and well-tempered that it could, under watereven, cut through oaken joists as hard as iron--the work in questionadvanced very rapidly, and a square portion of the ceiling, taken frombetween two of the joists, fell into the arms of Saint-Aignan,Malicorne, the workman, and a confidential valet, the latter being onebrought into the world to see and hear everything, but to repeatnothing. In accordance with a new plan indicated by Malicorne, theopening was effected in an angle of the room, and for this reason. Asthere was no dressing-closet adjoining La Valliere's room, she hadsolicited, and had that very morning obtained, a large screen intendedto serve as a partition. The screen which had been conceded wasperfectly sufficient to conceal the opening, which would, besides, behidden by all the artifices which cabinetmakers have at their command.The opening having been made, the workman glided between the joists, andfound himself in La Valliere's room. When there, he cut a square openingin the flooring, and out of the boards he manufactured a trap soaccurately fitting into the opening, that the most practiced eye couldhardly detect the necessary interstices made by joining the flooring.Malicorne had provided for everything: a ring and a couple of hinges,which had been bought for the purpose, were affixed to the trap-door;and a small circular staircase had been bought ready-made by theindustrious Malicorne, who had paid two thousand francs for it. It washigher than was required, but the carpenter reduced the number of steps,and it was found to suit exactly. This staircase, destined to receive soillustrious a weight, was merely fastened to the wall by a couple ofiron clamps, and its base was fixed into the floor of the comte's roomby two iron pegs, screwed down tightly, so that the king, and all hiscabinet councilors, too, might pass up and down the s
taircase withoutany fear. Every blow of the hammer fell upon a thick pad or cushion, andthe saw was not used until the handle had been wrapped in wool, and theblade steeped in oil. The noisiest part of the work, moreover, had takenplace during the night and early in the morning, that is to say, when LaValliere and Madame were both absent.
When, about two o'clock in the afternoon, the court returned to thePalais Royal, La Valliere went up into her room. Everything was in itsplace, and not the smallest particle of sawdust, not the smallest chip,was left to bear witness to the violation of her domicile. Saint-Aignan,however, who had wished to do his utmost in getting the work done, hadtorn his fingers and his shirt too, and had expended no ordinaryquantity of perspiration in the king's service. The palms of his hands,especially, were covered with blisters, occasioned by his having heldthe ladder for Malicorne. He had moreover brought, one by one, the fivepieces of the staircase, each consisting of two steps. In fact, we cansafely assert, that if the king had seen him so ardently at work, hismajesty would have sworn an eternal gratitude toward his faithfulattendant. As Malicorne had anticipated, the workman had completelyfinished the job in twenty-four hours; he received twenty-four louis,and left overwhelmed with delight, for he had gained in one day as muchas six months' hard work would have procured him. No one had theslightest suspicion of what had taken place in the room underMademoiselle de la Valliere's apartment. But in the evening of thesecond day, at the very moment La Valliere had just left Madame'scircle and had returned to her own room, she heard a slight creakingsound at the end of it. Astonished, she looked to see whence itproceeded, and the noise began again. "Who is there?" she said, in atone of alarm.
"I," replied the well-known voice of the king.
"You! you!" cried the young girl, who for a moment fancied herself underthe influence of a dream. "But where? You, sire?"
"Here," replied the king, opening one of the folds of the screen, andappearing like a ghost at the end of the room.
La Valliere uttered a loud cry, and fell trembling into an armchair, asthe king advanced respectfully toward her.
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