‘Tomorrow.’
‘Very well, tomorrow.’
‘Good. Now the princess and her son are about to go up on the terrace of President de Lalasne, I shall leave my share of the triumph to Madame de Tourville. Please make my excuses to Her Highness, saying that I am indisposed. Have me taken to the lodging that has been prepared for me. I am going to make my preparations and reflect on my mission, which gives me some anxiety, since it is the first of its kind that I have undertaken, and they say that everything in this world depends on the beginning.’
‘Peste!’ said Lenet. ‘I am not surprised any longer that Monsieur de La Rochefoucauld was on the point of being unfaithful to Madame de Longueville over you: you are her equal in some respects and much better in others.’
‘That may be,’ said Claire. ‘I do not entirely dismiss the compliment, but if you should have any influence with Monsieur de La Rochefoucauld, my dear Lenet, strengthen him in his first love, because the second frightens me!’
‘Well, well, we shall do our best,’ said Lenet with a smile. ‘This evening I shall give you your instructions.’
‘So do you agree that I should take Saint-Georges for you?’
‘So be it, if that is what you want.’
‘And the two dukes and the army?’
‘I have another way up my sleeve to make them come here.’
And, after giving the coachman the address of the place where Madame de Cambes was to stay, he took his leave of her with a smile and went to join the princess.
II
The day after the entry of the princess to Bordeaux, there was a great dinner on the Ile Saint-Georges, Canolles having invited the chief officers of the garrison and other governors in the province.
At two in the afternoon, the time set for the start of the meal, Canolles thus found himself amid some dozen gentlemen, most of whom he was meeting for the first time, and who, in describing the previous day’s great event, were making fun of the ladies who accompanied the princess, saying that they did not look very much like people about to engage in a military campaign and to whom the most serious interests of the kingdom have been entrusted.
Canolles, radiant, splendidly attired in his gilded coat, fuelled the merriment by example. Dinner was about to be served.
‘Gentlemen,’ he said, ‘I beg you accept my apologies, but one guest is still missing.’
‘Who is that?’ the young people asked, looking at one another.
‘The Governor of Vayres, to whom I wrote, though I do not know him – and who, precisely because I do not know him, has the right to some consideration. So I would ask you to let me give him another half hour’s grace.’
‘The Governor of Vayres!’ said an old officer, no doubt accustomed to military punctuality, who had sighed at the idea of this delay. ‘The Governor of Vayres! But wait: I think that is the Marquis de Bernay. But he does not manage the fort himself. He has a lieutenant.’
‘In that case,’ said Canolles, ‘he will not come, or else his lieutenant will come in his stead. As for the marquis, he is no doubt at court, the abode of favours.’
‘But, Baron,’ said one of those in the room, ‘I don’t think it is necessary to be at court to get on: there’s one commander I know who should have no complaints. Why! In three months: captain, lieutenant-colonel and Governor of the Ile Saint-Georges. Not a bad career, you must admit.’
‘I do,’ said Canolles, blushing. ‘And since I don’t know what I should thank for these favours, I just have to accept that there is some good genie in my house, since it is prospering so well.’
‘We know who the governor’s good genie is,’ said the lieutenant who had made Canolles’s introduction into the fortress, with a bow. ‘It’s his own merit.’
‘I don’t deny the merit, far from it,’ replied another officer. ‘I’m the first to recognize it. But I should add to that merit the recommendation of a certain lady, the most intelligent, benevolent and adorable woman in France – after the queen, of course.’
‘Enough of beating about the bush,’ said Canolles, smiling at this new speaker. ‘If you have any secrets of your own, keep them for yourself. If they belong to your friends, keep them for them.’
‘I must confess,’ said an officer, ‘that when I heard speak of a delay, I thought that we should receive an apology for some magnificent costume. Now I see that I was mistaken.’
‘Shall we be dining without ladies, then?’ asked another.
‘Why, unless I were to invite the princess and her attendants,’ said Canolles, ‘I really can’t see whom we might have. And don’t forget, gentlemen, that ours is a serious dinner: if we wish to talk business, at least we shall only be annoying ourselves.’
‘Well said, Commander, though in truth, if we are not careful, the ladies will be undertaking at this moment a veritable crusade against our authority. Just consider what the cardinal said in my presence to Don Louis de Haro.’
‘And what did he say?’ Canolles asked.
‘ “You are very lucky! Spanish women are concerned only with money, with their appearance and with admirers, while women in France no longer take a lover without quizzing him on his politics, to the point where,” he said despairingly, “a lovers’ tryst nowadays is spent in serious consideration of affairs of state.” ’
‘Hence,’ said Canolles, ‘the fact that the war in which we are engaged is called the women’s war, which is nothing if not flattering for us.’
At that moment, since the half hour’s delay that Canolles had requested was over, the door opened and a lackey appeared, announcing that the governor was to be served.
Canolles invited his guests to follow him, but as they were starting to do so, another announcement rang across the antechamber: ‘The Governor of Vayres!’
‘Ah!’ said Canolles. ‘This is most kind of him.’
He stepped forward to greet a colleague whom he did not know, but suddenly started back in surprise.
‘Richon!’ he exclaimed. ‘Richon – Governor of Vayres!’
‘Indeed so, my dear baron,’ Richon replied, maintaining his usual serious air, despite his affability.
‘But so much the better! A thousand times so!’ said Canolles, warmly shaking him by the hand, and adding: ‘Gentlemen, you do not know this gentleman, but I do, and I tell you plainly that one could not give an important post to a finer man.’
Richon surveyed his surroundings with his usual proud look, as haughty as an attentive eagle, and seeing only a slight surprise, moderated by a great deal of goodwill, in those around him, he said: ‘My dear baron, now that you have given me such a fine recommendation, I beg you to introduce me to those of these gentlemen whom I do not have the honour to know.’
Richon looked towards two or three of those present to whom he was a total stranger.
There followed an exchange of those extreme civilities that gave all relationships at that time a character at once so noble and so sociable. A quarter of an hour later, Richon was a friend of all those young officers and could ask any one of them for the use of his sword or his purse. His warrant was his well-known courage, his unblemished reputation and the nobility imprinted in his look.
‘By heavens, gentlemen!’ said the Commander of Braunes. ‘You must admit that, a man of the church though he may be, Monsieur de Mazarin does know a thing or two about soldiers and has been managing affairs well for some time. He scents the coming of war and chooses his governors: Canolles here, Richon in Vayres.’
‘Are we to fight, then?’ Richon asked casually.
‘Are we to fight!’ retorted a young man, coming in directly from the courtyard. ‘Are you asking if we are to fight, Monsieur Richon?’
‘Yes.’
‘Well, then, I for my part would ask you what is the state of your bastions?’
‘They are more or less new, Monsieur, because in the three days that I have been there, I have made more repairs than had been done over the previous three years.’
&nbs
p; ‘Well, it’s not long before they’ll get their first taste of fire.’
‘Very good,’ said Richon. ‘What do soldiers want? War!’
‘That’s fine,’ said Canolles. ‘The king can sleep easy, because he is holding the people of Bordeaux in check with his two rivers.’
‘The fact is that the person who put me there can count on me,’ said Richon.
‘And how long do you say you have been in Vayres?’
‘For three days. What about you, Canolles: how long in Saint-Georges?’
‘A week. Were you given a welcome like mine, Richon? My entrance was splendid, and, to tell the truth, I haven’t yet sufficiently thanked these gentlemen for it. I had the bells, the drums, the huzzahs and everything except the cannon – but I’m promised that very shortly, which consoles me.’
‘Well, there’s the difference between us,’ said Richon. ‘My entrance, my dear Canolles, was as simple as yours was magnificent. I had the order to introduce a hundred men into the fortress, a hundred men of the regiment of Turenne, and I did not know how I would do it, when my warrant arrived at Saint-Pierre, where I was staying, signed by Monsieur d’Epernon. I set out at once, gave my letter to the lieutenant and, with no drums or trumpets, I took over. And now, there I am.’
Canolles, who had been laughing at first, felt his heart tighten with a sinister premonition on hearing how the last words were spoken.
‘And you are at home there?’ he asked Richon.
‘I’m arranging to be so,’ Richon replied calmly.
‘And how many men do you have?’
‘First of all, the hundred men from the regiment of Turenne, old soldiers from Rocroi, who can be counted on, and with them a company that I am mustering in the town and training as the recruits turn up: tradespeople, young men, workers… around two hundred men. Lastly, I am expecting a final reinforcement of a hundred or a hundred and fifty men who have been recruited by a captain of the region.’
‘Captain Ramblay?’ one of the guests asked.
‘No, Captain Cauvignac,’ Richon replied.
‘Don’t know him,’ several of them replied.
‘But I do know him,’ said Canolles.
‘Is he a tried and trusted royalist?’
‘I can’t say, one way or the other. But I have every reason to think that Captain Cauvignac is a protégé of Monsieur d’Epernon and devoted to the duke.’
‘Well, that answers it: whoever is devoted to the duke is devoted to His Majesty.’
‘He’s someone associated with the king’s advance guard,’ said the old officer, who was catching up, now they were at table, with the time he had lost waiting. ‘I’ve heard people speak of him in that way.’
‘Is His Majesty on his way?’ Richon asked in his usual calm manner.
‘At this moment,’ replied the young man from the court, ‘the king must at least have reached Blois.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Very much so. The army will be commanded by Marshal de La Meilleraie, who is due to meet up somewhere near here with the Duke d’Epernon.’
‘At Saint-Georges, perhaps?’ said Canolles.
‘Or more probably in Vayres,’ said Richon. ‘Monsieur de La Meilleraie will be coming from Britanny, and Vayres is on his way.’
‘Whoever suffers the assault of the two armies will find his ramparts have a hard time of it,’ said the Governor of Braunes. ‘Monsieur de la Meilleraie has thirty pieces of cannon, and Monsieur d’Epernon has twenty-five.’
‘It will make a fine firework show,’ said Canolles. ‘It’s a pity we won’t see it.’
‘Unless one of us declares for the princes,’ said Richon.
‘Yes, but Canolles, at least, is sure to see some kind of action. If he does declare for the princes, he will be fired on by Monsieur de La Meilleraie and Monsieur d’Epernon, while if he stays loyal to His Majesty, he will take the fire of the people of Bordeaux.’
‘Oh, where those last are concerned,’ Canolles replied, ‘I don’t think they are very fearsome, and I must confess I am a little ashamed at only having to deal with them. Unfortunately, I belong heart and soul to His Majesty, so I shall have to make do with a purely bourgeois war.’
‘Which you shall have, don’t worry,’ said Richon.
‘Do you know if there is a possibility of that?’ Canolles asked.
‘Better than that,’ said Richon. ‘I know it for a certainty. The council of townsfolk decided that the first thing they would do would be to take the Ile Saint-Georges.’
‘Very well,’ said Canolles. ‘I’m expecting them.’
They had reached this point in the conversation and were just starting on the dessert, when suddenly there was a sound of drums beating at the gate of the fortress.
‘What does that mean?’ Canolles asked.
‘Why, by heaven!’ exclaimed the young officer who had given news of the court. ‘It would be an odd thing if they were to attack you right now, my dear Canolles. What a delightful after-dinner treat an assault and an escalade would be!’
‘By the devil, it looks very much like it to me,’ said the old commander. ‘Those wretched townsfolk are always bothering one during one’s siesta. I was in the forward line at Charenton in the days of the War of Paris and we could never have lunch or dinner in peace.’
Canolles rang, and the orderly from the antechamber came in.
‘What’s going on?’ Canolles asked.
‘I don’t know yet, Governor. Some messenger from the king or from the town, I expect.’
‘Find out and bring me the news.’ The soldier left at the double. ‘Come, gentlemen, let’s go back to our meal,’ Canolles said to his guests, most of whom had got up. ‘It will be time for us to leave the table when we hear the cannon.’
All the guests sat down again, laughing. Only Richon, whose face had clouded, remained uneasy, his eyes fixed on the door, waiting for the soldier to return. But, instead of the orderly, an officer arrived, with drawn sword, announcing: ‘Monsieur, a negotiator has arrived.’
‘A negotiator?’ said Canolles. ‘On whose behalf?’
‘From the princes…’
‘Coming from where?’
‘From Bordeaux.’
‘From Bordeaux!’ all the guests exclaimed, except Richon.
‘Well, I never! That means war has really been declared,’ said the old officer. ‘If they’re sending negotiators.’
Canolles thought for a moment, and in that moment his face, which had been smiling only ten minutes before, took on all the gravity demanded by the occasion.
‘Gentlemen,’ he said. ‘Duty above all. I am probably going to have a hard question to resolve with the emissary of the Bordelais. I do not know when I shall be able to rejoin you.’
‘No, no!’ cried the guests, as one man. ‘Send us away, Commander: what is happening to you is a warning to all of us to go back to our respective posts. It is important therefore that we should separate at once.’
‘It was not for me to suggest it, gentlemen,’ said Canolles. ‘But since you make the offer, I am forced to admit that it is the most prudent course, and I accept. Bring these gentlemen’s horses and carriages!’
Almost at once, as quickly as though they were already on the battlefield, the guests leapt into the saddle or got into their coaches, and, followed by their escorts, set off towards their various residences.
Richon was the last to leave.
‘Baron,’ he said to Canolles, ‘I did not want to leave you exactly as the others did, seeing that we have known one another longer than you have known them. So farewell, now, give me your hand – and good luck!’
Canolles shook Richon’s hand.
‘Richon,’ he said, looking at him closely, ‘I know you: there is something going on inside you. You will not tell me what, because it is probably not your secret to tell… Yet you are troubled… and when a man of your stamp is troubled, it is not for a trifle.’
‘Isn’t it because we sh
all be apart?’ asked Richon.
‘We were going to be apart when we said goodbye to each other at Biscarros’s inn, yet then you were calm…’
Richon smiled sadly.
‘Baron,’ he said, ‘I have a premonition that we shall not see one another again!’
Canolles shuddered: the normally firm voice of the daring partisan had such a note of profound melancholy as he said this.
‘Well, if we do not see one another again, Richon,’ he said, ‘that will be because one of us two will be dead… and have died a soldier’s death. In that case, the one who is stricken will at least be sure, as he dies, that he will survive in the heart of a friend! Let us embrace, Richon! You wished me good luck, and I say to you: be of good cheer!’
The two men fell into each other’s arms and remained for some time with their noble hearts pressed to one another.
When they separated, Richon wiped away a tear, perhaps the only one that had ever clouded his proud eye; then, as though fearing that Canolles might have seen this tear, he rushed from the room, no doubt ashamed at having given such proof of weakness to a man whose own courage he well knew.
III
The dining room had remained empty except for Canolles and the officer who had announced the arrival of the envoy; he was standing by the door.
‘What are the governor’s orders?’ he asked, after a moment’s silence.
Canolles, who had at first been absorbed in his thoughts, shuddered at the sound of this voice, looked up and came out of his reverie.
‘Where is the envoy?’ he asked.
‘In the arms room, Monsieur.’
‘Who has he brought with him?’
‘Two guards from the Bordeaux town militia.’
‘And who is he?’
‘A young man… as far as one can tell. He is wearing a broad-brimmed hat and wrapped in a large cloak.’
‘And how did he announce himself?’
‘As the bearer of letters from the princess and from the parliament of Bordeaux.’
‘Ask him to wait for a moment,’ said Canolles. ‘I shall be with him soon.’
The officer left to carry out this order, and Canolles was preparing to follow him, when the door opened, and Nanon appeared, looking pale and shivering, but with her usual affectionate smile. Grasping the young man’s hand, she asked: ‘An envoy. What does this mean, my friend?’
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