Louise de la Valliere

by Alexandre Dumas

  Chapter XXIV. The First Quarrel.

  La Valliere entered the queen-mother's apartments without in the leastsuspecting that a serious plot was being concerted against her. Shethought it was for something connected with her duties, and never hadthe queen-mother been unkind to her when such was the case. Besides, notbeing immediately under the control or direction of Anne of Austria,she could only have an official connection with her, to which her owngentleness of disposition, and the rank of the august princess, madeher yield on every occasion with the best possible grace. She thereforeadvanced towards the queen-mother with that soft and gentle smilewhich constituted her principal charm, and as she did not approachsufficiently close, Anne of Austria signed to her to come nearer. Madamethen entered the room, and with a perfectly calm air took her seatbeside her mother-in-law, and continued the work which Maria Theresa hadbegun. When La Valliere, instead of the direction which she expected toreceive immediately on entering the room, perceived these preparations,she looked with curiosity, if not with uneasiness, at the twoprincesses. Anne seemed full of thought, while Madame maintained anaffectation of indifference that would have alarmed a less timid personeven than Louise.

  "Mademoiselle," said the queen-mother suddenly, without attempting tomoderate or disguise her Spanish accent, which she never failed to doexcept when she was angry, "come closer; we were talking of you, asevery one else seems to be doing."

  "Of me!" exclaimed La Valliere, turning pale.

  "Do you pretend to be ignorant of it; are you not aware of the duelbetween M. de Guiche and M. de Wardes?"

  "Oh, madame! I heard of it yesterday," said La Valliere, clasping herhands together.

  "And did you not foresee this quarrel?"

  "Why should I, madame?"

  "Because two men never fight without a motive, and because you mustbe aware of the motive which awakened the animosity of the two inquestion."

  "I am perfectly ignorant of it, madame."

  "A persevering denial is a very commonplace mode of defense, and you,who have great pretensions to be witty and clever, ought to avoidcommonplaces. What else have you to say?"

  "Oh! madame, your majesty terrifies me with your cold severityof manner; but I do not understand how I can have incurred yourdispleasure, or in what respect people concern themselves about me."

  "Then I will tell you. M. de Guiche has been obliged to undertake yourdefense."

  "My defense?"

  "Yes. He is a gallant knight, and beautiful adventuresses like to seebrave knights couch lances in their honor. But, for my part, I hatefields of battle, and above all I hate adventures, and--take my remarkas you please."

  La Valliere sank at the queen's feet, who turned her back upon her.She stretched out her hands towards Madame, who laughed in her face. Afeeling of pride made her rise to her feet.

  "I have begged your majesty to tell me what is the crime I am accusedof--I can claim this at your hands; and I see I am condemned before I ameven permitted to justify myself."

  "Eh! indeed," cried Anne of Austria, "listen to her beautiful phrases,Madame, and to her fine sentiments; she is an inexhaustible well oftenderness and heroic expressions. One can easily see, young lady, thatyou have cultivated your mind in the society of crowned heads."

  La Valliere felt struck to the heart; she became, not whiter, but aswhite as a lily, and all her strength forsook her.

  "I wished to inform you," interrupted the queen, disdainfully, "that ifyou continue to nourish such feelings, you will humiliate us to such adegree that we shall be ashamed of appearing before you. Be simple inyour manners. By the by, I am informed that you are affianced; is it thecase?"

  La Valliere pressed her hand over her heart, which was wrung with afresh pang.

  "Answer when you are spoken to!"

  "Yes, madame."

  "To a gentleman?"

  "Yes, madame."

  "His name?"

  "The Vicomte de Bragelonne."

  "Are you aware that it is an exceedingly fortunate circumstance for you,mademoiselle, that such is the case, and without fortune or position,as you are, or without any very great personal advantages, you oughtto bless Heaven for having procured you such a future as seems to be instore for you?"

  La Valliere did not reply. "Where is the Vicomte de Bragelonne?" pursuedthe queen.

  "In England," said Madame, "where the report of this young lady'ssuccess will not fail to reach him."

  "Oh, Heaven!" murmured La Valliere in despair.

  "Very well, mademoiselle!" said Anne of Austria, "we will get this younggentleman to return, and send you away somewhere with him. If you areof a different opinion--for girls have strange views and fancies attimes--trust to me, I will put you in a proper path again. I have doneas much for girls who are not as good as you are, probably."

  La Valliere ceased to hear the queen, who pitilessly added: "I willsend you somewhere, by yourself, where you will be able to indulge in alittle serious reflection. Reflection calms the ardor of the blood, andswallows up the illusions of youth. I suppose you understand what I havebeen saying?"

  "Madame!"

  "Not a word?"

  "I am innocent of everything your majesty supposes. Oh, madame! you area witness of my despair. I love, I respect your majesty so much."

  "It would be far better not to respect me at all," said the queen, witha chilling irony of manner. "It would be far better if you were notinnocent. Do you presume to suppose that I should be satisfied simply toleave you unpunished if you had committed the fault?"

  "Oh, madame! you are killing me."

  "No acting, if you please, or I will precipitate the _denouement_ ofthis _play_; leave the room; return to your own apartment, and I trustmy lesson may be of service to you."

  "Madame!" said La Valliere to the Duchess d'Orleans, whose hands sheseized in her own, "do you, who are so good, intercede for me?"

  "I!" replied the latter, with an insulting joy, "I--good!--Ah,mademoiselle, you think nothing of the kind;" and with a rude, hastygesture she repulsed the young girl's grasp.

  La Valliere, instead of giving way, as from her extreme pallor and hertears the two princesses possibly expected, suddenly resumed her calmand dignified air; she bowed profoundly, and left the room.

  "Well!" said Anne of Austria to Madame, "do you think she will beginagain?"

  "I always suspect those gentle, patient characters," replied Madame."Nothing is more full of courage than a patient heart, nothing moreself-reliant than a gentle spirit."

  "I feel I may almost venture to assure you she will think twice beforeshe looks at the god Mars again."

  "So long as she does not obtain the protection of his buckler I do notcare," retorted Madame.

  A proud, defiant look of the queen-mother was the reply to thisobjection, which was by no means deficient in finesse; and both of them,almost sure of their victory, went to look for Maria Theresa, who hadbeen waiting for them with impatience.

  It was about half-past six in the evening, and the king had justpartaken of refreshment. He lost no time; but the repast finished, andbusiness matters settled, he took Saint-Aignan by the arm, and desiredhim to lead the way to La Valliere's apartments. The courtier uttered anexclamation.

  "Well, what is that for? It is a habit you will have to adopt, and inorder to adopt a habit, one must make a beginning."

  "Oh, sire!" said Saint-Aignan, "it is hardly possible: for every one canbe seen entering or leaving those apartments. If, however, some pretextor other were made use of--if your majesty, for instance, would waituntil Madame were in her own apartments--"

  "No pretext; no delays. I have had enough of these impediments andmysteries; I cannot perceive in what respect the king of Francedishonors himself by conversing with an amiable and clever girl. Evil beto him who evil thinks."

  "Will your majesty forgive an excess of zeal on my part?"

  "Speak freely."

  "How about the queen?"

  "True, true; I always wish the most enti
re respect to be shown to hermajesty. Well, then, this evening only will I pay Mademoiselle de laValliere a visit, and after to-day I will make use of any pretext youlike. To-morrow we will devise all sorts of means; to-night I have notime."

  Saint-Aignan made no reply; he descended the steps, preceding the king,and crossed the different courtyards with a feeling of shame, which thedistinguished honor of accompanying the king did not remove. The reasonwas that Saint-Aignan wished to stand well with Madame, as well aswith the queens, and also, that he did not, on the other hand, want todisplease Mademoiselle de la Valliere: and in order to carry out somany promising affairs, it was difficult to avoid jostling against someobstacle or other. Besides, the windows of the young queen's rooms,those of the queen-mother's, and of Madame herself, looked out upon thecourtyard of the maids of honor. To be seen, therefore, accompanying theking, would be effectually to quarrel with three great and influentialprincesses--whose authority was unbounded--for the purpose of supportingthe ephemeral credit of a mistress. The unhappy Saint-Aignan, who hadnot displayed a very great amount of courage in taking La Valliere'spart in the park of Fontainebleau, did not feel any braver in the broadday-light, and found a thousand defects in the poor girl which he wasmost eager to communicate to the king. But his trial soon finished,--thecourtyards were crossed; not a curtain was drawn aside, nor a windowopened. The king walked hastily, because of his impatience, and thelong legs of Saint-Aignan, who preceded him. At the door, however,Saint-Aignan wished to retire, but the king desired him to remain; adelicate consideration, on the king's part, which the courtier couldvery well have dispensed with. He had to follow Louis into La Valliere'sapartment. As soon as the king arrived the young girl dried her tears,but so precipitately that the king perceived it. He questioned her mostanxiously and tenderly, and pressed her to tell him the cause of heremotion.

  "Nothing is the matter, sire," she said.

  "And yet you were weeping?"

  "Oh, no, indeed, sire."

  "Look, Saint-Aignan, and tell me if I am mistaken."

  Saint-Aignan ought to have answered, but he was too much embarrassed.

  "At all events your eyes are red, mademoiselle," said the king.

  "The dust of the road merely, sire."

  "No, no; you no longer possess the air of supreme contentment whichrenders you so beautiful and so attractive. You do not look at me. Whyavoid my gaze?" he said, as she turned aside her head. "In Heaven'sname, what is the matter?" he inquired, beginning to lose command overhimself.

  "Nothing at all, sire; and I am perfectly ready to assure your majestythat my mind is as free from anxiety as you could possibly wish."

  "Your mind at ease, when I see you are embarrassed at the slightestthing. Has any one annoyed you?"

  "No, no, sire."

  "I insist upon knowing if such really be the case," said the prince, hiseyes sparkling.

  "No one, sire, no one has in any way offended me."

  "In that case, pray resume your gentle air of gayety, or that sweetmelancholy look which I so loved in you this morning; for pity's sake,do so."

  "Yes, sire, yes."

  The king tapped the floor impatiently with his foot, saying, "Such achange is positively inexplicable." And he looked at Saint-Aignan, whohad also remarked La Valliere's peculiar lethargy, as well as the king'simpatience.

  It was futile for the king to entreat, and as useless for him to try toovercome her depression: the poor girl was completely overwhelmed,--theappearance of an angel would hardly have awakened her from her torpor.

  The king saw in her repeated negative replies a mystery full ofunkindness; he began to look round the apartment with a suspicious air.There happened to be in La Valliere's room a miniature of Athos.The king remarked that this portrait bore a strong resemblance toBragelonne, for it had been taken when the count was quite a young man.He looked at it with a threatening air. La Valliere, in her misery farindeed from thinking of this portrait, could not conjecture the causeof the king's preoccupation. And yet the king's mind was occupied witha terrible remembrance, which had more than once taken possession ofhis mind, but which he had always driven away. He recalled theintimacy existing between the two young people from their birth, theirengagement, and that Athos himself had come to solicit La Valliere'shand for Raoul. He therefore could not but suppose that on her returnto Paris, La Valliere had found news from London awaiting her, and thatthis news had counterbalanced the influence he had been enabled to exertover her. He immediately felt himself stung, as it were, by feelingsof the wildest jealousy; and again questioned her, with increasedbitterness. La Valliere could not reply, unless she were to acknowledgeeverything, which would be to accuse the queen, and Madame also; and theconsequence would be, that she would have to enter into an open warfarewith these two great and powerful princesses. She thought within herselfthat as she made no attempt to conceal from the king what was passing inher own mind, the king ought to be able to read in her heart, inspite of her silence; and that, had he really loved her, he would haveunderstood and guessed everything. What was sympathy, then, if not thatdivine flame which possesses the property of enlightening the heart, andof saving lovers the necessity of an expression of their thoughts andfeelings? She maintained her silence, therefore, sighing, and concealingher face in her hands. These sighs and tears, which had at firstdistressed, then terrified Louis XIV., now irritated him. He could notbear opposition,--the opposition which tears and sighs exhibited, anymore than opposition of any other kind. His remarks, therefore, becamebitter, urgent, and openly aggressive in their nature. This was afresh cause of distress for the poor girl. From that very circumstance,therefore, which she regarded as an injustice on her lover's part, shedrew sufficient courage to bear, not only her other troubles, but thisone also.

  The king next began to accuse her in direct terms. La Valliere did noteven attempt to defend herself; she endured all his accusations withoutaccording any other reply than that of shaking her head; without anyother remark than that which escapes the heart in deep distress--aprayerful appeal to Heaven for help. But this ejaculation, instead ofcalming the king's displeasure, rather increased it. He, moreover, sawhimself seconded by Saint-Aignan, for Saint-Aignan, as we have observed,having seen the storm increasing, and not knowing the extent of theregard of which Louis XIV. was capable, felt, by anticipation, all thecollected wrath of the three princesses, and the near approach of poorLa Valliere's downfall, and he was not true knight enough to resistthe fear that he himself might be dragged down in the impending ruin.Saint-Aignan did not reply to the king's questions except by short, dryremarks, pronounced half-aloud; and by abrupt gestures, whose object wasto make things worse, and bring about a misunderstanding, the resultof which would be to free him from the annoyance of having to cross thecourtyards in open day, in order to follow his illustrious companion toLa Valliere's apartments. In the meantime the king's anger momentarilyincreased; he made two or three steps towards the door as if to leavethe room, but returned. The young girl did not, however, raise her head,although the sound of his footsteps might have warned her that her loverwas leaving her. He drew himself up, for a moment, before her, with hisarms crossed.

  "For the last time, mademoiselle," he said, "will you speak? Will youassign a reason for this change, this fickleness, for this caprice?"

  "What can I say?" murmured La Valliere. "Do you not see, sire, that I amcompletely overwhelmed at this moment; that I have no power of will, orthought, or speech?"

  "Is it so difficult, then, to speak the truth? You could have told methe whole truth in fewer words than those in which you have expressedyourself."

  "But the truth about what, sire?"

  "About everything."

  La Valliere was just on the point of revealing the truth to the king,her arms made a sudden movement as if they were about to open, but herlips remained silent, and her hands again fell listlessly by her side.The poor girl had not yet endured sufficient unhappiness to risk thenecessary revelation. "I know nothing,
" she stammered out.

  "Oh!" exclaimed the king, "this is no longer mere coquetry, or caprice,it is treason."

  And this time nothing could restrain him. The impulse of his heart wasnot sufficient to induce him to turn back, and he darted out of the roomwith a gesture full of despair. Saint-Aignan followed him, wishing fornothing better than to quit the place.

  Louis XIV. did not pause until he reached the staircase, and graspingthe balustrade, said: "You see how shamefully I have been duped."

  "How, sire?" inquired the favorite.

  "De Guiche fought on the Vicomte de Bragelonne's account, and thisBragelonne... oh! Saint-Aignan, she still loves him. I vow to you,Saint-Aignan, that if, in three days from now, there were to remain butan atom of affection for her in my heart, I should die from very shame."And the king resumed his way to his own apartments.

  "I told your majesty how it would be," murmured Saint-Aignan, continuingto follow the king, and timidly glancing up at the different windows.

  Unfortunately their return was not, like their arrival, unobserved. Acurtain was suddenly drawn aside; Madame was behind it. She had seenthe king leave the apartments of the maids of honor, and as soon as sheobserved that his majesty had passed, she left her own apartments withhurried steps, and ran up the staircase that led to the room the kinghad just left.