Petticoat Rule

by Baroness Emmuska Orczy Orczy

  CHAPTER XIX

  A CRISIS

  Lydie returned to the palace in a very different frame of mind thanwhen, half an hour ago, she had run along corridor and staircase, hernerves on the jar, her whole being smarting under the sense of wrongand of injustice.

  Hope had consoled her since then, and the thought that her owncherished plan need not fail for want of a loyal man's help had in ameasure eased that strange obsession which had weighed on her heart,and caused foolish tears to start to her eyes. She was also consciousof a certain joy in thinking that the companion of her childhood, theman who had been her earliest ideal was not so black a traitor as shehad believed.

  Gaston had spoken of pitfalls, he owned to having been deceived, andthere is no woman living who will not readily admit that hersuccessful rival is naught but a designing minx. Gaston had alwaysbeen weak where women were concerned, and Lydie forgave him hisweakness, simply because he had owned to it and because she liked tothink of his fault as a weakness rather than as a deliberatetreachery.

  Now she only thought of her project. When first she had talked ofcommissioning _Le Monarque_, milor had entrusted her with allnecessary directions by which Captain Barre could most easily reachthe Stuart prince and his friends. It was but a very few weeks, naydays ago, that she had been quite convinced that the King himselfwould be foremost in the general desire to fit out an expedition forthe rescue of the unfortunate Jacobites, and naturally the fitting-outof such an expedition would have been entrusted primarily to herselfand incidentally to her husband.

  These directions she still had. All she had to do now was to embodythem in the secret orders which Gaston de Stainville would hand overto the Commander of _Le Monarque_. Further orders would be anentgetting the prince and his friends on board, and the route to be takenhomeward, the better to ensure their safety.

  Beyond that she would need some sort of token which, when shown toCharles Edward Stuart by Captain Barre, would induce the young princeto trust himself and his friends unconditionally to _Le Monarque_.Lord Eglinton's signet ring had been spoken of for this object the dayof the Young Pretender's departure, but now of course she could notask milor for it. On the other hand she felt quite sure that a writtenword from her would answer the necessary purpose, a brief note sealedwith the Eglinton arms.

  The thought of the seal as an additional message of good faith firstoccurred to her when she once more reached the West Wing of thepalace.

  From the great square landing where she now stood, a monumental dooron her right gave on her own suite of apartments. On the left was thelong enfilade of reception rooms, with the vast audience chamber andmilor's own withdrawing room beyond.

  She deliberately turned to the left, and once more traversed the vastand gorgeous halls where, half an hour ago, she had suffered such keenhumiliation and such overwhelming disappointment. She forced herselfnot to dwell on that scene again, and even closed her eyes with avague fear that the mental vision might become materialized.

  Beyond the audience chamber there were two or three more receptionrooms, and from the last of these a door masked by a heavy portiere,gave on milor's study. All these apartments were now deserted, savefor a few flunkeys who stood about desultorily in the windowembrasures. From one of them Lydie asked if M. le Controleur desFinances was within, but no one remembered having seen milor since the_petit lever_, and it was generally thought that he had gone toTrianon. Lydie hesitated a moment before she opened the door; shescarcely ever entered this portion of the palace and had never oncebeen in milor's private rooms. But she wanted that seal with theEglinton arms, and would not admit, even to herself, that herhusband's presence or absence interested her in the least.

  But on the threshold she paused. Milor was sitting at a giganticescritoire placed squarely in front of the window. He had obviouslybeen writing; at the slight sound of the creaking door and the swishof Lydie's skirts, he raised his head from his work and turned to lookat her.

  Immediately he rose.

  "Your pardon for this intrusion, milor," she said coldly, "yourlacqueys gave me to understand that you were from home."

  "Is there anything that you desire?"

  "Only a seal with the Eglinton arms," she replied quite casually, "Ihave need of it for a private communication."

  He sought for the seal among the many costly objects which litteredhis table and handed it to her.

  "I am sorry that you should have troubled to come so far for it," hesaid coldly, "one of my men would have taken it to your study."

  "And I am sorry that I should have disturbed you," she rejoined. "Iwas told that you had gone to Trianon."

  "I shall be on my way thither in a few moments, to place myresignation in the hands of His Majesty."

  "Your resignation?"

  "As I have had the honour to tell you."

  "Then you will leave Versailles?"

  "To make way for my successor, as soon as His Majesty hath appointedone."

  "And you go . . . whither?" she asked.

  "Oh! what matter?" he replied carelessly, "so long as I no longertrouble your ladyship with my presence."

  "Then you will have no objection if I return to my father until yourfuture plans are more mature?"

  "Objection?" he said with a pleasant little laugh. "Nay, Madame, youare pleased to joke."

  She felt a little bewildered: this unexpected move on his part hadsomehow thrown all her plans out of gear. For the moment she scarcelyhad time to conjecture, even vaguely, what her own future actionswould be if her husband no longer chose to hold an important positionin the Ministry. The thought that his resignation would of necessitymean her own, suddenly rushed into her mind with overwhelmingviolence, but she was too confused at present to disentangle herselffrom the maze of conflicting emotions which assailed her, when firstshe realized the unexpected possibility.

  She was toying with the seal, forgetful somehow of the purpose and theplans which it represented. These not being in jeopardy throughmilor's extraordinary conduct, she could afford to dismiss them fromher mind.

  It was the idea of her husband's resignation and her own future whichtroubled her, and strangely enough there was such an air of finalityabout his attitude that, for the moment, she was somewhat at a losshow to choose a line of argument with which to influence him. That shecould make him alter his decision she never doubted for a moment, butsince the first day of their married life he had never taken anyinitiative in an important matter, and his doing so at this momentfound her at first wholly unprepared.

  "Am I to understand that my wishes in so vital a decision are not tobe consulted in any way?" she asked after a momentary pause.

  "You will honour me, Madame, by making me acquainted with them," hereplied.

  "You must reconsider your resignation," she said decisively.

  "That is not possible."

  "I have much important business of the nation in hand which I couldnot hand over to your successor in an incomplete state," she saidhaughtily.

  "There is no necessity for that, Madame, nor for depriving the nationof your able, guiding hand. The post of Comptroller of Finance neednot be filled immediately. It can remain in abeyance and under yourown matchless control, at the pleasure of His Majesty and M. le Ducd'Aumont, neither of whom will, I am sure, desire to make a change inan administration, which is entirely for the benefit of France."

  She looked at him very keenly, through narrowed lids scanning his faceand trying to read his intent. But there was obviously no look ofsarcasm in his eyes, nor the hint of a sneer in the even placidity ofhis voice. Once more that unaccountable feeling of irritation seemedto overmaster her, the same sense of wrath and of injustice which hadassailed her when she first spoke to him.

  "But this is senseless, milor," she said impatiently. "You seem toforget that I am your wife, and that I have a right to yourprotection, and to a fitting home if I am to leave Versailles."

  "I am not forgetting that you are my wife, Madame, but my protectionis worth so
little, scarcely worthy of your consideration. As for therest, my chateau of Vincennes is entirely at your disposal; a retinueof servants is there awaiting your orders, and my notary will this dayprepare the deed which I have commanded wherein I humbly ask you toaccept the chateau, its lands and revenues as a gift from me, albeitthese are wholly unworthy of your condescension."

  "It is monstrous, milor, and I'll not accept it," she retorted. "Thinkyou perchance I am so ready to play the _role_ of a forsaken wife?"

  A strange thought had been gradually creeping into her mind: a weirdkind of calculation whereby she put certain events in juxtaposition toone another: the departure of Gaston de Stainville, for he had toldher that he was prepared to go to Scotland whether she helped him inhis expedition or not: then Irene would be temporarily free, almost awidow since Gaston's return under those circumstances would have beenmore than problematical; and now milor calmly expressing thedetermination to quit Versailles, and to give away his chateau andlands of Vincennes, forsooth, as a sop to the forsaken wife, whilstMadame de Stainville's provocative attitude this morning more thanbore out this conclusion.

  Lydie felt as if every drop of blood in her body rushed up violentlyto her cheeks, which suddenly blazed with anger, whilst his, at hersuggestion, had become a shade more pale.

  "I am free to suppose, milor, that Madame de Stainville has somethingto do with your sudden decision!" she said haughtily; "therefore,believe me, I have no longer a wish to combat it. As the welfare ofFrance, the work which I have in hand, interests you so little, I willnot trouble you by referring to such matters again. By all means placeyour resignation in His Majesty's hands. I understand that you desireto be free. I only hope that you will assist me in not washing toomuch of our matrimonial linen in public. I have many enemies and Imust refuse to allow your whims and fantasies to annihilate the fruitsof my past labours, for the good of my country. I will confer withMonsieur le Duc, my father; you will hear my final decision from him."

  She turned once more toward the door. He had not spoken one word ininterruption, as with a harsh and trenchant voice she thus hurledinsult upon insult at him. She only saw that he looked very pale,although his face seemed to her singularly expressionless: whilst sheherself was conscious of such unendurable agony, that she feared shemust betray it in the quiver of her mouth, and the tears whichthreatened to come to her eyes.

  When she ceased speaking, he bowed quite stiffly, but made no sign ofwishing to defend himself. She left the room very hurriedly: inanother second and she would have broken down. Sobs were choking her,an intolerable anguish wrung her heartstrings to that extent, that ifshe had had the power, she would have wounded him physically, as shehoped that she had done now mentally. Oh! if she had had the strength,if those sobs that would not be denied had not risen so persistentlyin her throat, she would have found words of such deadly outrage, aswould at least have stung him and made him suffer as she was sufferingnow.

  There are certain pains of the heart that are so agonizing, that onlycruelty will assuage them. Lydie's strong, passionate natureperpetually held in check by the force of her great ambition and byher will to be masculine and firm in the great purpose of her life,had for once broken through the trammels which her masterful mind hadfashioned round it. It ran riot now in her entire being. She wasconscious of overwhelming, of indomitable hate.

  With burning eyes and trembling lips she hurried through the rooms,and along the interminable corridors. The flunkeys stared at her asshe passed, she looked so different to her usual composed and haughtyself: her cheeks were flaming, her bosom heaving beneath theprimly-folded kerchief, and at intervals a curious moan-like soundescaped her lips.

  Thus she reached her own study, a small square room at the extreme endof the West Wing, two of its walls formed an angle of the structure,with great casement windows which gave on that secluded spinney, withits peaceful glade which she loved.

  As soon as she entered the room her eyes fell on that distant beechplantation. A great sigh rose from her oppressed heart, for suddenlyshe had remembered her great purpose, the one project which wasinfinitely dear to her.

  The graceful beech trees far away, with their undergrowth of brackenand foxgloves gleaming in the sun, recalled to her that Gaston waswaiting in their midst for her message to _Le Monarque_.

  Thank God, this great joy at least was not denied her. She still hadthe power and the will to accomplish this all-pervading object of herlife: the rescue of the Stuart prince from the hands of his enemiesand from the perfidy of his whilom friends.

  This thought, the recollection of her talk with Gaston, the work whichstill remained for her to do, eased the tension of her nerves andstilled the agonizing pain of her heart.

  With a tremendous effort of will she chased away from her mentalvision the picture of that pale, expressionless face, which seemed tohaunt her. She forced herself to forget the humiliation, theinjustice, the affront which she had suffered to-day, and not to hearthe persistent echo of the deadly insults which she had uttered inresponse.

  Her study was cool and dark; heavy curtains of soft-toned lavenderfell beside the windows, partially shutting out the glare of themidday sun. Her secretaire stood in the centre of the room. She satdown near it and unlocked a secret drawer. For the next quarter of anhour her pen flew across two sheets of paper. She had in front of hera map of a certain portion of the West Coast of Scotland, withdirections and other sundry notes carefully written in the margins,and she was writing out the orders for the commander of _Le Monarque_to reach that portion of the coast as quickly as possible, to seek outPrince Charles Stuart, who would probably be on the look-out for aFrench vessel, and having got him, and as many friends of his asaccompanied him, safely aboard, to skirt the West Coast of Ireland andsubsequently to reach Morlaix in Brittany, where the prince woulddisembark.

  There was nothing flustered or undetermined about her actions, shenever paused a moment to collect her thoughts for obedient to her willthey were already arrayed in perfect order in her mind: she had onlyto transfer them to paper.

  Having written out the orders for Captain Barre she carefully foldedthem, together with the map, and fastened and sealed them with theofficial seal of the Ministry of Finance: then she took one more sheetof paper and wrote in a bold clear hand:

  "The bearer of this letter is sent to meet you by your true and faithful friends. You may trust yourself and those you care for unconditionally to him."

  To this note she affixed a seal stamped with the Eglinton arms: andacross the words themselves she wrote the name "Eglinton!"

  There was no reason to fear for a moment that the Stuart prince wouldhave any misgivings when he received this message of comfort and ofhope.

  Then with all the papers safely tied together and hidden in the foldsof her corselet, she once more found her way down the great staircaseand terraces and into the beech wood where M. de Stainville awaitedher.