The Black Wolf's Breed

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by Harris Dickson


  CHAPTER V

  THE DECADENCE OF VERSAILLES

  It was nearly noon on the fourth day when I alighted at the Placed'Armes, the grand court-yard of Versailles, and I fear I cut but asorry figure for a governor's messenger. It appeared that my dress atbest was unlike that worn at the court; my fringed leather leggings,hunting knife and long sword differed much from the wigs and frizzesworn by the officers of the guard. However, I made bold to seem atease and accustomed to court as I addressed the officer of the watch.

  "Can you direct me, sir, to M. de Serigny? I have business with him."

  The man smiled, I knew not at what, and regarded me curiously. I feltmy face flush, but repeated the question.

  "M. de Serigny," he replied, "is with the court. Seek him at hisapartments. Pass through yonder great gate, turn to the left andinquire of the guard at the door."

  I walked on hastily, glad to be quit of his inspection. Such a throngof fine gentlemen in silks, satins and ribbons I never dreamed of; eventhe soldiers seemed dressed more for bridals than for battles. I heldmy peace though, walking steadily onward as directed, yet itching tostick my sword into some of their dainty trappings. At the door I cameupon a great throng of loungers playing at dice, some throwing andothers laying their wagers upon those who threw.

  Standing somewhat aloof was a slender young fellow who wore the slashedsilver and blue of the King's own guard:--I knew the colors well fromsome of our older officers in the Provincial army. They had told me ofmen, soldiers and hard fighters, too, wearing great frizzled wigsoutside their natural hair, with ruffles on their sleeves and perfumedlaces at their throats--but I had generally discredited such tales.Here was a man dressed more gaily than I had ever seen a woman in mychildhood--and he seemed a fine, likely young fellow, too. I fear Iexamined him rather critically and without proper deference to hisuniform, for he turned upon me angrily, catching my glance.

  "Well, my good fellow, didst never see the King's colors before? Wherehast thou lived then all these years?"

  He seemed quite as much amused at my plain forest garb, leggings andservice cap, as I had been at his silken trumpery. I replied to him asquietly as might be:

  "In our parts beyond the seas we hear often of the King's Guard, butnever have my eyes rested upon their uniform before."

  Observing my shoulder straps he unbent somewhat and inquired:

  "Thou bearest the rank of captain?"

  "Aye, comrade, in the service of the King in his province of Louisiana.I pray you direct me to the apartments of M. de Serigny, I would havespeech with him."

  He was a manly young lad, of soldierly bearing, too, despite hiseffeminate dress; he turned and himself guided me through the manyintricate halls and passages until we reached a door which he pointedout as Serigny's, where, with polite speeches, he left me alone.

  Monsieur was out, at what business the servant did not know, but wouldreturn at two of the clock. In the meantime I sought to amuse myselfstrolling about the place. I knew I could find my way along the bayoupaths of Louisiana the darkest night God ever sent, for there at leastI would have through the trees the glimmer of a friendly star to guideme. But here in the King's palace of Versailles, with the windingpassages running hither and yonder, each as like the other as twingauntlets, I lost myself hopelessly.

  Clanking about alone over the tiles in great deserted corridors I grewalmost frightened at my own noise until I passed out into an immensegallery, gaily decorated, and thronged with the ladies and gentlemen ofthe court. I could not make much sense of it all except it seemedgreatly painted up, especially overhead, and nearly every figure borethe face of the King.

  From the windows I could see a strange forest where every tree grew inthe shape of some odd beast or bird, being set in long rows, and amongthem were white images of some substance like unto the Holy Mother atthe shrine in Montreal. Some of these graven stones were in semblanceof men with horns and goats' legs, and some of warrior women withplumed helms upon their heads. Verily I marveled much at these strangesights.

  The pert little lads who idled about the hall began to make sport of meconcerning my dress, and laughed greatly at their own wit. I paid noheed to their foolish gibes, there being no man among them. It irkedme more than good sense would admit, and I left the hall, and aftermany vain endeavors made my way out into the open air--being right gladto breathe again without a roof above my head.

  I was ill at ease among all these gay gallants who minced and pacedalong like so many string-halted nags. It was said the King walkedmuch in that way, and so, forsooth, must all his lords and ladies go.Perhaps it was the fashion of the court, but I stuck to the only gait Iknew, a good, honest, swinging stride which could cover fifteen leaguesa day at a pinch.

  Off to one side the water kept leaping up into the air as I am told thespouting springs do in the Dacotah country. I walked that way and wassoon lost in wonderment at the contemplation of a vast bronze basinfilled with curious brazen beasts, half men half fishes, the like ofwhich I had never seen. Some had horns from which they blew sparklingstreams; others astride of strange sea monsters plunged about and castup jets of water. It all made so much noise I scarcely heard a voicebehind me say:

  "I'll lay a golden Louis his coat is of as queer a cut as his nethergarment--whatever its outlandish name maybe."

  "Done," said another voice.

  I gave no heed, thinking they meant not me, until a dapper little chap,all plumed and belaced, stepped in front of me with a most lordly air.

  "Hey, friend, who is thy tailor?" and behind me rang out the merrylaugh at such a famous jest.

  I turned and there being a party of fine ladies at my back full gladlywould I have retired, had not the young braggart swaggered to my frontagain and persisted:

  "Friend, let us see the cut of thy coat."

  We men of the forest accustomed to the rough ways of a camp, andlooking not for insult, are slow to anger, so I only asked as politelyas might be, because of the ladies:

  "And wherefore?"

  "Because I say so, sir," he replied, most arrogantly and stamping hisfoot, "cast off thy cloak that we may see."

  I still stood undecided, scarce knowing what to think, and beingignorant of fashions at court. De Brienne--for that was hisname--mistaking my hesitation, advanced and laying his hand upon mycloak would have torn it off, had I not brushed him aside so vigorouslyhe stumbled and fell to the ground.

  I had no thought of using strength sufficient to throw him down. Hesprang up instantly, and, furious, drew his sword. I felt my own wrathrise at sight of cold steel--it was ever a way of mine beyondcontrol--and asked him hotly:

  "How is it affair of thine what manner of coat I wear?"

  He made no reply, but, raising his arm, said, menacingly;

  "Now, clown, show thy coat, or I'll spit thee like a dog."

  I glanced around the circle at the blanched faces of the ladies, seeingsuch a serious turn to their jest, and would not even then have drawn,but the men made no effort to interfere, so I only answered him, "Nay,I'll wear my cloak," when he made a quick lunge at me. I know not thathe meant me serious injury, but taking no risk my blade came readily,and catching his slenderer weapon broke it short off, leaving himraging and defenceless--a simple trick, yet not learned in a day. Itwas a dainty little jewel-hilted toy, and I hated to spoil it.

  "Now, sir, thank the King's uniform for thy life," my blood was up, andI ached to teach him a lesson, "I can not turn the King's sword againstone of his servants."

  The ladies laughed now, and the hot flush mounted to my cheeks, for Ifeared a woman, but their merriment quickly died away at sound of animperious voice saying:

  "For shame de Brienne, brawler!" "And thou, my young coxcomb ofOrleans," he continued, addressing that dissolute Prince: "How dareyou, sir, lead such a throng of revellers into the King's own gardens?Is not your own house of debauchery sufficient for Your Grace? Have acare, young sir, I am yet the King, and thou mayest ne
ver be theRegent."

  The Duke simulated his profound regret, but when Louis' back was turnedmade a most unprincely and most uncourtly grimace at his royal uncle,which set them all a-laughing. Whereat all these noble lords andladies made great pretense of gravity, and ostentatiously held theirhandkerchiefs before their mouths to hide their mirth.

  Already these satellites began to desert the sinking to attach theirfortunes to those of the rising sun. I marvelled at this, for the nameof Louis had been held in almost Godlike reverence by us in thecolonies. Meanwhile he had turned to me:

  "Well said, young man; thou hast a loyal tongue."

  "And a loyal master, sire," for it needed not the mention of his nameto tell me I faced the King. That face, stamped on his every goldennamesake, had been familiar to me since the earliest days of mychildhood.

  "Thy name, sir?"

  Kingly still, though a little bent, for he was now well past sixty,Louis stood in his high-heeled shoes tapping the ground impatientlywith a long cane, his flowing coat fluttering in the wind. For aperiod I completely lost my tongue, could see nothing but the blazingcross of the Holy Ghost, the red order of St. Louis, upon the Monarch'sbreast, could hear nothing but the grating of his cane against thegravel. Yet I was not ashamed, for a brave soldier can proudly fearhis God, his conscience and his King.

  "Thy name," he sharply demanded, "dost hear?"

  "Placide de Mouret, Captain of Bienville's Guards, Province ofLouisiana, may it please you, sire," I stammered out.

  "Attend me at the morning hour to-morrow," and he strutted away fromthe giggling crowd.

  I too would have turned off, had not my late antagonist proven himselfa man at heart. He quickly moved toward me holding out his hand inreconciliation.

  "I ask thy pardon, comrade; I too am a soldier, though but anindifferent one in these peaceful times. We mistook thee, and I humblyask thy pardon."

  Of course I could bear no malice against the fellow, and he seemingsincere, I suffered him to present me to his friends. First amongthese, de Brienne presented me to His Royal Highness, the Duke ofOrleans, "First Prince of the Blood, and the coming Regent of France."

  This latter speech was given with decided emphasis, and a maliciousglance toward a pale, studious looking man, a cripple, who, the centerof a more sedate group, was well within hearing. The deformed Duke ofMaine, I thought, rival of Orleans for the Regency. The ladies I wouldhave willingly escaped, but they would not hear of it, and soon I wassurrounded by a chattering group, asking a thousand questions about thefabled land of gold and glory beyond the seas. Right glad was I whenone of the gallants pointed out a thoughtful looking gentleman whowalked slowly through the eastern gate.

  "There is M. de Serigny, a brother of Bienville, your Governor."

  "That de Serigny?" I repeated, "then I must leave you, for I wouldspeak with him," and I bowed myself off with what grace I could muster,knowing naught of such matters. A brisk walk fetched me to Serigny'sside. In a few words I communicated my mission. His quick, incisiveglance took in every detail of my dress and appearance, but hisfeatures never changed.

  "Wait, my dear Captain," he drawled out, with a polite wave of hisperfumed handkerchief, "time for business after a while. Let us enjoythe beauties of the garden."

  My spirits fell. Could this be a brother of the stern Bienville, thisthe man upon whom my governor's fortunes now so largely depended? Hisfoppish manner impressed me very disagreeably, and, in no pleasantframe of mind, I stalked along by his side listening to the senselessgossip of the court. We soon passed out of the gardens into the greathall, and reached his own apartments.

  No sooner was the valet dismissed and the key turned in the lock thanhis face showed the keenest interest. After satisfying himself of myidentity and glancing through the packet which I now handed him, hegave vent to an exclamation of intense relief.

  "Not a day too soon, my dear Captain, not a day, not a day, not a day,"he kept repeating over and over, looking at the different documents."The King promises to act on this matter in a few days, to-morrow,probably. Chamillard is against us; he seems all powerful now; theKing loves him for his truculence. But these will help, yes, thesewill help." And again he ran through the various papers withbusiness-like swiftness. His fashionable air and the perfumedhandkerchief were alike laid aside. Now I could see the resemblancebetween him and his sturdy brother.

  "To-morrow, yes, to-morrow, my lad--pardon me the familiarity, Captainde Mouret," he apologized, waiving aside my hand raised in protest."To-morrow we must act. We must gain the King's own ear. These mustnot go through the department of war. Chamillard will poison theKing's mind against us. Most likely they would never reach the King atall. Louis will hardly listen to me even now."

  "Then let me speak to the King," I blurted out before I thought.

  "You?" he repeated in unconcealed astonishment.

  "Yes, I," I replied, for I was now well into it, and determined to wadethrough; besides I loved my old commander, and would venture much inhis service.

  Then I told Serigny of the occurrence in the garden, or enough to lethim understand why I was summoned to the morning audience.

  "Thou art lucky, lad; here half a day and already have an appointmentwith the King." "Yes," he roused half aloud, "Louis likes such things.He grows suspicious with age, and doubts even his ministers. It isquite possible he may question you of affairs in the colonies. If so,speak out, and freely, too, my lad; Louis loves the plain truth when ittouches not his princely person or his vanities. God grant that we maywin."

  Serigny then told me much of the petty trickery of the court in orderthat I might understand how the land lay.

  "It may be of service to you to know something of the many webs whichambition, cupidity and malice have woven about us here in this greatgovernment of France," he went on, speaking bitterly. "We never darespeak our thoughts, for blindness, silence, flattery and fawning seemsurer passports to favor than are gallant deeds and honest service.The King grows old, and it is feared his end is near. Of this, menscarcely whisper. His death, as you know, would leave all France tothe frail little Duke of Anjou. Looking to this, the court here isalready divided in interest between the rivals for the regency, Philipof Orleans, and the Duke of Maine. The Orleans party is the stronger,though the Duke stands accused in the vulgar mind of poisoning all whomay come between himself and the throne, save this Anjou child, whowill probably die of sheer weakness. The King has recently had his deMontespan children legitimated and rendered capable of inheriting thecrown, though the legality of this action is bitterly contested by theOrleanists. He has also, it is said, left a will in favor of the Dukeof Maine, giving him all real power, while nominally making Orleans theRegent. And strange as it may seem, it is said this will was made atthe persistent request of de Maintenon, so viciously hated by the proudde Montespan. But you know she was the teacher of this little Duke,and they are very much attached to each other. Were the Duke of Mainea more vigorous man, there would be no doubt of his success. If 'thatlittle wasp of Sceaux,' as Madame Orleans calls the wife of the Duke ofMaine, were the man of the family, she would surely be the Regent.She's a wonderful woman. Madame du Maine hates Bienville because shecan not use him in her dealings with Spain. She has duped the Bretonsby the promise of an independent provincial government, but Bienvillestands true to his King. So they seek by every means to discredit him.You may surmise from this how unfortunately our affairs here arecomplicated in the affairs of great personages, where lesser men losetheir lives at the first breath of suspicion."

  After a little I had ample opportunity to observe the man more closely,for he kept his seat to examine at leisure the dispatches I hadbrought. He was evidently not entirely pleased with this inspection,giving vent at times to low expressions of annoyance.

  "Always the same trouble, la Salle and de la Vente, spies inBiloxi--Ah, here is the fine hand of Madame du Maine, currying favorwith the Spaniard in aid of her cripple hus
band. If we could only makethis plain to Louis; this stirring up of strife. Fancy a son of deMontespan on the throne of France. Yes, yes, yes, here is the awkwardwork of our old friend Crozat, the tradesman, who would purchase anempire of the King. See how clumsily he throws out his golden bait."

  I could but listen and observe. Now, more than ever, in the sternnessand decision of his countenance he resembled his famous brothers,Iberville, Sauvolle and Bienville--and yet beyond them all he possessedthe faculties of a courtier.

  "Captain, are you acquainted with the nature of these dispatches?" heasked directly.

  "No, sire, only in general, and from my knowledge of affairs at Biloxi."

  "My brother tells me I may trust you." My face flushed hotly with theblood of anger.

  "Oh, my dear Captain, I meant no offense; I speak plainly, and thereare few men about this court whom you can trust. There is an adventureof grave importance upon which I wish to employ you. Your beingunknown in Paris may assist us greatly."

  I signified my attention.

  "It is supposed we are on the eve of war with Spain, and it is mybelief the colonies will be the first objects of attack. Some person,and one who is in our confidence, is now carrying on a secretcorrespondence with the Spanish agent at Paris. Cellamare, the SpanishAmbassador, is concerned in the intrigue. This much we know fromletters which have fallen into my hands, and I have permitted them tobe delivered rather than interrupt a correspondence which willeventually lead to a discovery of the traitor. We have now good reasonto believe that dispatches of a very serious nature are expected dailyby Yvard--Yvard is the Spanish spy--"

  "Yvard, Yvard," I mentally repeated, where had I heard that name?

  "These papers are to give our exact strength at Biloxi, the plans ofour fortifications, and a chart of all the navigable waters ofLouisiana. We can not afford to let the Spaniards have thisinformation, even if thereby we should capture their agent."

  I maintained a strict silence.

  "You understand le Dauphin is the last vessel over, and no other isexpected for months, so we think all this information came over withyou."

  When he began I instinctively thought of Levert, who set out alone forParis just behind me. As he proceeded, the name "Yvard" again fixed myattention. The very name I had heard mentioned by one of the men themorning I left Biloxi. Serigny was right in his surmise, but I let himgo on without interruption.

  "If I am correct, these plans will be perfected in Paris before leDauphin sails again. The spy, whoever he may be, will perhaps want toreturn in her. Now you can see what I want. You can understand what ahelp you may possibly be in this matter. You doubtless know everyperson who came over in le Dauphin, yet you must avoid notice yourself,for they would suspect you instantly."

  I still said nothing to him of the conversation I had overheard, or ofmy own suspicions, childishly thinking I would gain the greater creditby unearthing the whole affair and divulging it at one time.

  "We have some reliable fellows in Paris, and I will send such lettersas will put you in possession of all the information they have. Youand they, I trust, can do the work satisfactorily, but in no eventshall my name, or that of Bienville, be connected with the enterprise.If the matter should come to the King, we would lose what little holdwe now have upon him. It is not an easy or an agreeable task. TheSpanish spy bears the name of Carne Yvard, a man of good birth, but agambler and a profligate. He is known throughout Paris as a recklessgamester, but no man dare question him, because of his marvellous skillwith the sword. He spends much of his time at Bertrand's wine and cardrooms, though he has the _entree_ at some of the most fashionablehouses in the city, even at Madame du Maine's exclusive Villa ofSceaux. But thereby hangs his employment; we do not know how farMadame is involved in this intrigue with Spain and the Bretons."

  Verily I felt encouraged as Serigny unfolded his charming plans for myentertainment. In a strange city to hunt up and dispossess a man likethis of papers which would hang him. A delightful undertaking forsooth!

  "But we plan in advance, my dear Captain. We must wait the pleasure ofthe King concerning you. We will renew this subject to-morrow."

  That night I lodged with Serigny.

 

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