Petticoat Rule

by Baroness Emmuska Orczy Orczy

  CHAPTER XV

  DIPLOMACY

  The buzz of talk was going on as loudly and incessantly as before. Thewhispered conversation around M. le Controleur's bedside had excitedno violent curiosity. The first surprise occasioned by His Majesty'sunparalleled condescension soon gave way to indifference; it wasobvious that the King's assiduity beside the Minister of Finance wassolely due to a more than normal desire for money, and these royaldemands for renewed funds were too numerous to cause more than passinginterest.

  Eavesdropping was impossible without gross disrespect, the latter farmore unpardonable than the most insatiable curiosity. Lydie alone,privileged above all, had apparently not heeded the barrier whichisolated Louis XV, Pompadour and milor from the rest of the vastapartment, for she now stood at the foot of the bed--a graceful,imposing figure dressed in somewhat conventual gray, with one handresting on the delicate panelling, her grave, luminous eyes fixed onthe King's face.

  Louis shook himself free from the stupor in which milor's unexpectedwords had plunged him. Surprise yielded now to vexation. Lydie'sappearance, her interference in this matter, would be the finaldeath-blow to his hopes. Those tantalizing millions had dangled closebefore his eyes, his royal hands had almost grasped them, his earsheard their delicious clink; milor's original attitude had broughtthem seemingly within his grasp. Now everything was changed. The wholeaffair would have to be argued out again at full length, and though_le petit Anglais_ might prove amenable, Mme. Lydie was sure to beobdurate.

  Louis XV scowled at the picture of youth and beauty presented by thatelegant figure in dove-gray silk, with the proud head carried high,the unconscious look of power and of strength in the large gray eyes,so grave and so fixed. In his mind there had already flashed thethought that milor's sudden change of attitude--for it was a change,of that his Majesty had no doubt--was due to a subtle sense of fearwhich had made him conscious of his wife's presence, although from herposition and his own he could not possibly have seen her approach.

  This made him still more vexed with Lydie, and as she seemed calmly tobe waiting for an explanation, he replied quite gruffly:

  "Nay, madame, you mistake; I assure you milor and ourselves areperfectly at one--we were so until a few moments ago."

  "Until I came," she said quietly. "I am glad of that, for 'twill beeasy enough, I hope, to convince your Majesty that my presence canhave made no difference to M. le Controleur's attitude of deeprespect."

  "Pardi, we hope not!" interposed Mme. de Pompadour acidly; "but wehope milor hath found his tongue at last and will do the convincinghimself."

  But Louis XV was not prepared to reopen the discussion in the presenceof Mme. Lydie. He knew, quite as well as M. le Duc d'Aumont himself,that she would have nothing but contempt and horror for that infamousproposal, which he was more determined than ever to accept.

  It was tiresome of course not to have the cooperation of LordEglinton; that weak fool now would, no doubt, be overruled by hiswife. At the same time--and Louis hugged the thought as it sprang tohis mind--there were other ways of obtaining possession of CharlesEdward Stuart's person than the direct one which he had proposed tomilor just now. The young Pretender was bound sooner or later to leavethe shores of Scotland. Unbeknown to King Louis a ship might be sentby private friends to rescue the fugitive, but that ship could beintercepted on her way home, and, after all, Charles Edward was boundto land in France some day!--and then----

  And there were other means besides of earning the tempting millions.But these would have to be thought out, planned and arranged; theywould be difficult and not nearly so expeditious, which was a drawbackwhen royal coffers were clamouring to be filled. Still, it would bedistinctly unadvisable to broach the subject with Mme. la Marquised'Eglinton, and unnecessarily humiliating, since a rebuff was sure tobe the result.

  Therefore, when--as if in placid defiance of Pompadour'schallenge--Lord Eglinton handed the Duke of Cumberland's lettersilently back to the King, the latter slipped it into his pocket witha gesture of ostentatious indifference.

  "Nay! we need not trouble Mme. la Marquise with the discussion now,"he said; "she is unacquainted with the subject of our presentconversation, and it would be tedious to reiterate."

  "I crave your pardon, Sire," rejoined Lydie, "if I have transgressed,but my zeal in the service of France and in that of your Majesty hasrendered my senses preternaturally acute. My eyes see in the gloom, myears hear across vast spaces."

  "In a word, Mme. la Marquise has been listening!" said Pompadour, witha sneer.

  "I did not listen," said Lydie quietly. "I only heard."

  "Then you know?" said Louis, with well-assumed indifference.

  "Oh, yes!"

  She smiled at him as she replied. This was apparently a day ofsurprises, for the smile seemed distinctly encouraging.

  "And--and what do you say?" asked his Majesty somewhat anxiously, yetemboldened by that encouraging smile.

  Of a truth! was he about to find an ally there, where he expected mostbitter opposition?

  "Meseems that milor was somewhat hasty," replied Lydie quietly.

  "Ah!"

  It was a sigh of intense, deep, heartfelt, satisfaction breathed byLouis the Well-beloved, and unrestrainedly echoed by Mme. dePompadour.

  "This proposal, Sire," continued Lydie; "'tis from England, Iunderstand?"

  "From his Grace of Cumberland himself, Madame," assented the King,once more drawing the letter from out his pocket.

  "May I be permitted to see it?" she asked.

  For a moment Louis hesitated, then he gave her the letter. There wasno risk in this, since she practically owned to knowing its contents.

  And the whole affair would be so much easier, so much more expeditiouswith the cooperation of the Eglintons.

  Lydie read the letter through, seemingly deeply engrossed in itscontents. She never once raised her eyes to see how she was beingwatched. She knew quite well that the King's eyes were fixed eagerlyupon her face, that Pompadour's cupidity and greed for the proposedmillions were plainly writ upon her face. But she had not once lookedat her husband. She did not look at him now. He had not spoken sincethat sudden burst of indignation, when his slender hand crushed theinfamous document which she now studied so carefully, crushed it andwould have torn it to ribbons in loathing and contempt.

  When first she interposed he had turned and faced her. Since then sheknew that his eyes had remained fixed on her face. She felt the gaze,yet cared not to return it. He was too weak, too simple to understand,and of her own actions she would be sole mistress; that had been thechief clause in the contract when she placed her hand in his.

  Her intuitive knowledge of this Court in which she moved, hersuspicions of this feeble monarch, whose extravagant caprices had ledhim to deeds at which in his earlier days he had been the first toblush, her dread of intrigues and treachery, all had whispered in herear the word of prudence--"Temporize."

  The whole infamous plan had been revealed to her through those samesupernaturally keen senses, which her strong domineering nature hadcoerced, until they became the slaves of her will. Mingling with thecrowd, her graceful body present in the chattering throng, her mindhad remained fixed on that group beside the bed. She had noticed theKing's expression of face when he engaged milor in conversation, hisextraordinary _bonhomie_, his confidential attitude, his whispers, allbacked and seconded by Pompadour. Gradually she manoeuvred and, stillforming a unit with the rest of the crowd, she had by degrees drawnnearer and nearer, until she saw her husband's movement, his almostimperceptible change of expression, as he clutched the letter whichwas handed him by the King.

  Then she boldly entered the inner precincts; being privileged, shecould do even that, without creating attention. Milor's words ofcontempt, the royal arms of England on the seal of the letter, coupledwith her father's attitude with her just now, and his veiledsuggestions, told her all she wanted to know. And quick as flashes ofsummer lightning her woman's intuition whispered words of wisdom i
nher ear.

  "Know everything first--then temporize! Diplomacy will do more thandefiance."

  Having read the letter through, she of course knew all. It was simpleenough--a monstrous proposal which the King of France was ready toadopt. She felt real physical nausea at contact with so much infamy.

  But she folded the document neatly and carefully, then looked quietlyat the King.

  "The Duke of Cumberland is generous," she said, forcing herself tosmile.

  "Heu, heu!" assented Louis lightly, with a return of his wonted_bonhomie_. Matters were shaping themselves to a truly satisfactoryend.

  "Do I understand that your Majesty would desire us to accept hisGrace's proposal?"

  "What think you yourself, Madame?"

  "It is worth considering," she mused.

  "Parbleu! And you are a true woman!" exclaimed Louis XV, beaming withdelight. "Full of wisdom as a statesman should be. To think that wecould ever have mistrusted so clear a head and so sound a judgment."

  "Your Majesty, I hope, will always remember that my sole desire is toserve France and her King!"

  "Par ma foi! We'll not forget your help in this, Madame," he exclaimedwhole-heartedly. "Then we may rely on your help?"

  "What does your Majesty desire me to do?"

  He came quite close to her, and she forced herself not to draw backone inch. For the sake of the fugitive prince and his friends, who hadtrusted in the honour of France; for the sake of that honour which, inher peculiar position, was as dear to her as her own, she would notflinch now; she would show no repulsion, no fear, though her wholebeing rose in revolt at contact with this man.

  A man, not a king! Par Dieu, not a King of France!

  His face to her looked hideous, the eyes seemed to leer, and there waslust for money, and ignoble treachery writ on every feature.

  "We have explained it all to milor," whispered Louis under his breath;"a ship to be commissioned and sent to meet the Stuart. She will havesecret orders--no one shall know but her captain--and he will be a manwhom we can trust--a man whom we shall have to pay--you understand?"

  "I understand."

  "Then from you we want to know the place in Scotland where we willfind Charles Edward--eh? And also a token--a ring, a word perhaps, bywhich that young adventurer will be made to trust his own person andthat of his friends to our good ship. It is very simple, you see."

  "Quite simple, your Majesty."

  "The ship's orders will be that once the Stuart and his faction are onboard, she shall make straight for the first Englishport--and--and--that is all!" he added complacently.

  "Yes, that is all, your Majesty."

  "And on the day that Charles Edward Stuart is handed over to theEnglish authorities, there will be fifteen millions for your King,Madame, and a million livres pin money for the most able statesman inEurope."

  And with consummate gallantry, Louis bowed very low and took her handin his. It rested cold and inert between his hot fingers, but he wasfar too eager, far too triumphant to notice anything beyond the factthat he had succeeded in enlisting the help of Lydie d'Eglinton,without whom his project was bound to have been considerably delayed,if not completely frustrated. He had indeed not wasted this gloriousmorning.

  "I am eternally your debtor, Madame!" he said gaily; "and 'tis well,believe me, to serve the King of France."

  "I have done nothing as yet, Sire," she rejoined.

  "Nay, but you will," he said confidently.

  She bowed her head and he interpreted the movement according to hiswill. But he was impatient, longing to see this matter finally settledto his entire satisfaction.

  "Will you not give me a definite answer now?"

  "In the midst of so much chatter, Sire?" she said, forcing herself tosmile gaily. "Nay, but 'tis a serious matter--and I must consult withmy father."

  Louis smiled contentedly. M. le Duc d'Aumont was at one with him inthis. The letter had been originally sent to the Prime Minister, andthe Duke, who was weak, who was a slave to the Bourbon dynasty, andwho, alas! was also tainted with that horrible canker which wasgradually affecting the whole of the aristocracy of France, theinsatiable greed for money, had been bribed to agree with the King.

  Therefore Louis was content. It was as well that Lydie should speakwith the Duke. The worthy D'Aumont would dissipate her last lingeringscruples.

  "And your husband?" he added, casting a quick glance over his shoulderat milor, and smiling with good-natured sarcasm.

  "Oh, my husband will think as I do," she replied evasively.

  At thought of her father and the King's complacent smile, Lydie hadwinced. For a moment her outward calm threatened to forsake her. Shefelt as if she could not keep up this hideous comedy any longer. Shewould have screamed aloud with horror or contempt, aye! and deepsorrow, too, to think that her father wallowed in this mire.

  She too cast a quick glance at milor. His eyes were no longer fixed onher face. He stood quietly beside Madame de Pompadour, who, leavingthe King to settle with Lydie, had engaged Lord Eglinton in frivolousconversation. He was quite placid again, and in his face, gentle anddiffident as usual, there was no longer the faintest trace of thatsudden outburst of withering contempt.

  The Duke of Cumberland's letter was still in her hand. It seemed toscorch her fingers with its loathsome pollution. But she clung to it,and after a violent effort at self control, she contrived to lookLouis straight in the face and to give him a reassuring smile, as sheslipped the letter into the bosom of her gown.

  "I will consult with my father, Sire," she repeated, "and will readthe letter when I am alone and undisturbed."

  "And you will give me a final answer?"

  "The day after to-morrow."

  "Why not sooner?" he urged impatiently.

  "The day after to-morrow," she reiterated with a smile. "I have muchto think about, and--the only token which Charles Edward would trustwithout demur must come from Lord Eglinton."

  "I understand," said the King knowingly. "Par ma foi! But we shallwant patience. Two whole days! In the meanwhile we'll busy ourselveswith preparations for the expedition. We had thought of _Le Monarque_.What say you?"

  "_Le Levantin_ would be swifter."

  "Ah, yes! _Le Levantin_--and we can trust her captain. He is underdeep obligation to Madame de Pompadour. And M. de Lugeac, Madame'snephew, you know--we had thought of him to carry the secret orders toBrest to the captain of _Le Levantin_ directly she is ready to sail.Methinks we could trust him. His interests are bound up with ours. Andthere is another, too; but more of that anon. The secret orders willbear our own royal signature, and you might place them yourself, withthe token, in our chosen messenger's hands."

  Once more he gave her a gracious nod, and she curtseyed with all thedeference, all the formality which the elaborate etiquette of thetime demanded. Louis looked at her long and searchingly, butapparently there was nothing in the calm, serene face to disturb hispresent mood of complacent satisfaction. He put out his podgy hand toher; the short, thick fingers were covered with rings up to theirfirst joint, and Lydie contrived to kiss the large signet--an emblemof that kingship to which she was true and loyal--without letting herlips come in contact with his flesh.

  What happened during the next ten minutes she could not afterward havesaid. Her whole mind was in a turmoil of thought, and every time theinfamous letter crackled beneath her corselet, she shuddered as withfear. Quite mechanically she saw the King's departure, and apparentlyshe acted with perfect decorum and correctness. Equally, mechanicallyshe saw the chattering throng gradually disperse. The vast room becamemore and more empty, the buzz less and less loud. She saw milor asthrough a mist, mostly with back bent, receiving the _adieux_ ofsycophants; she heard various murmurs in her own ears, mostly requeststhat she should remember and be ready to give, or at least to promise.She saw the procession of courtiers, of flatterers, of friends andenemies pass slowly before her; in the midst of them she vaguelydistinguished Mme. de Stainville's brightly coloured gown.
<
br />   La belle Irene lingered a long time beside milor. She was one of thelast to leave, and though Lydie forced herself not to look in thatdirection, she could not help hearing the other woman's irritatinggiggle, and Lord Eglinton's even, pleasant voice framing compliments,that pandered to that brainless doll's insatiable vanity.

  And this when he knew that his friend was about to be betrayed.

  The taint! The horror! The pollution of it all!

  Fortunately she had not seen her father, for her fortitude might havebroken down if she read that same awful thought of treachery in hisface that had so disgusted her when Louis stood beside her.

  The last of that senseless, indifferent crowd had gone. The vast roomwas empty. Milor had accompanied Mme. de Stainville as far as thedoor. The murmur of talk and laughter came now only as a faint andlingering echo. Anon it died away in the distant corridors.

  Lydie shivered as if with cold.