CHAPTER I.
THE SPORT OF FOOLS.
The death of the Prince of Conde, which occurred in the spring of1588, by depriving me of my only patron, reduced me to such straitsthat the winter of that year, which saw the King of Navarre come tospend his Christmas at St. Jean d'Angely, saw also the nadir of myfortunes. I did not know at this time--I may confess it to-day withoutshame--whither to turn for a gold crown or a new scabbard, and neitherhad nor discerned any hope of employment. The peace lately patched upat Blois between the King of France and the League persuaded many ofthe Huguenots that their final ruin was at hand; but it could not filltheir exhausted treasury or enable them to put fresh troops into thefield.
The death of the Prince had left the King of Navarre without a rivalin the affections of the Huguenots; the Vicomte de Turenne, whoseturbulent ambition already began to make itself felt, and M. deChatillon, ranking next to him. It was my ill-fortune, however, to beequally unknown to all three leaders, and as the month of Decemberwhich saw me thus miserably straitened saw me reach the age of forty,which I regard, differing in that from many, as the grand climactericof a man's life, it will be believed that I had need of all thecourage which religion and a campaigner's life could supply.
I had been compelled some time before to sell all my horses except theblack Sardinian with the white spot on its forehead; and I now foundmyself obliged to part also with my valet de chambre and groom, whom Idismissed on the same day, paying them their wages with the last linksof gold chain left to me. It was not without grief and dismay that Isaw myself thus stripped of the appurtenances of a man of birth, anddriven to groom my own horse under cover of night. But this was notthe worst. My dress, which suffered inevitably from this menialemployment, began in no long time to bear witness to the change in mycircumstances; so that on the day of the King of Navarre's entranceinto St. Jean I dared not face the crowd, always quick to remark thepoverty of those above them, but was fain to keep within doors andwear out my patience in the garret of the cutler's house in the Rue dela Coutellerie, which was all the lodging I could now afford.
Pardieu, 'tis a strange world! Strange that time seems to me; morestrange compared with this. My reflections on that day, I remember,were of the most melancholy. Look at it how I would, I could not butsee that my life's spring was over. The crows'-feet were gatheringabout my eyes, and my moustachios, which seemed with each day ofill-fortune to stand out more fiercely in proportion as my face grewleaner, were already grey. I was out at elbows, with empty pockets,and a sword which peered through the sheath. The meanest ruffler who,with broken feather and tarnished lace, swaggered at the heels ofTurenne, was scarcely to be distinguished from me. I had still, it istrue, a rock and a few barren acres in Brittany, the last remains ofthe family property; but the small sums which the peasants couldafford to pay were sent annually to Paris, to my mother, who had noother dower. And this I would not touch, being minded to die agentleman, even if I could not live in that estate.
Small as were my expectations of success, since I had no one at theking's side to push my business, nor any friend at Court, Inevertheless did all I could, in the only way that occurred to me. Idrew up a petition, and lying in wait one day for M. Forget, the Kingof Navarre's secretary, placed it in his hand, begging him to lay itbefore that prince. He took it, and promised to do so, smoothly, andwith as much lip-civility as I had a right to expect. But the carelessmanner in which he doubled up and thrust away the paper on which I hadspent so much labour, no less than the covert sneer of his valet, whoran after me to get the customary present--and ran, as I still blushto remember, in vain--warned me to refrain from hope.
In this, however, having little save hope left, I failed so signallyas to spend the next day and the day after in a fever of alternateconfidence and despair, the cold fit following the hot with perfectregularity. At length, on the morning of the third day--I remember itlacked but three of Christmas--I heard a step on the stairs. Mylandlord living in his shop, and the two intervening floors beingempty, I had no doubt the message was for me, and went outside thedoor to receive it, my first glance at the messenger confirming me inmy highest hopes, as well as in all I had ever heard of the generosityof the King of Navarre. For by chance I knew the youth to be one ofthe royal pages; a saucy fellow who had a day or two before cried 'OldClothes' after me in the street. I was very far from resenting thisnow, however, nor did he appear to recall it; so that I drew thehappiest augury as to the contents of the note he bore from thepoliteness with which he presented it to me.
I would not, however, run the risk of a mistake, and before holdingout my hand, I asked him directly and with formality if it was for me.
He answered, with the utmost respect, that it was for the Sieur deMarsac, and for me if I were he.
'There is an answer, perhaps?' I said, seeing that he lingered.
'The King of Navarre, sir,' he replied, with a low bow, 'will receiveyour answer in person, I believe.' And with that, replacing the hatwhich he had doffed out of respect to me, he turned and went down thestairs.
Returning to my room, and locking the door, I hastily opened themissive, which was sealed with a large seal, and wore every appearanceof importance. I found its contents to exceed all my expectations. TheKing of Navarre desired me to wait on him at noon on the followingday, and the letter concluded with such expressions of kindness andgoodwill as left me in no doubt of the Prince's intentions. I read it,I confess, with emotions of joy and gratitude which would better havebecome a younger man, and then cheerfully sat down to spend the restof the day in making such improvements in my dress as seemed possible.With a thankful heart I concluded that I had now escaped from poverty,at any rate from such poverty as is disgraceful to a gentleman; andconsoled myself for the meanness of the appearance I must make atCourt with the reflection that a day or two would mend both habit andfortune.
Accordingly, it was with a stout heart that I left my lodgings a fewminutes before noon next morning, and walked towards the castle. Itwas some time since I had made so public an appearance in the streets,which the visit of the King of Navarre's Court had filled with anunusual crowd, and I could not help fancying as I passed that some ofthe loiterers eyed me with a covert smile; and, indeed, I was shabbyenough. But finding that a frown more than sufficed to restore thegravity of these gentry, I set down the appearance to my ownself-consciousness, and, stroking my moustachios, strode along boldlyuntil I saw before me, and coming to meet me, the same page who haddelivered the note.
He stopped in front of me with an air of consequence, and making me alow bow--whereat I saw the bystanders stare, for he was as gay a youngspark as maid-of-honour could desire--he begged me to hasten, as theking awaited me in his closet.
'He has asked for you twice, sir,' he continued importantly, thefeather of his cap almost sweeping the ground.
'I think,' I answered, quickening my steps, 'that the king's lettersays noon, young sir. If I am late on such an occasion, he has indeedcause to complain of me.'
'Tut, tut!' he rejoined, waving his hand with a dandified air. 'It isno matter. One man may steal a horse when another may not look overthe wall, you know.'
A man may be gray-haired, he may be sad-complexioned, and yet he mayretain some of the freshness of youth. On receiving this indication ofa favour exceeding all expectation, I remember I felt the blood riseto my face, and experienced the most lively gratitude. I wondered whohad spoken in my behalf, who had befriended me; and concluding at lastthat my part in the affair at Brouage had come to the king's ears,though I could not conceive through whom, I passed through the castlegates with an air of confidence and elation which was not unnatural, Ithink, under the circumstances. Thence, following my guide, I mountedthe ramp and entered the courtyard.
A number of grooms and valets were lounging here, some leading horsesto and fro, others exchanging jokes with the wenches who leaned fromthe windows, while their fellows again stamped up and down
to keeptheir feet warm, or played ball against the wall in imitation of theirmasters. Such knaves are ever more insolent than their betters; but Iremarked that they made way for me with respect, and with risingspirits, yet a little irony, I reminded myself as I mounted the stairsof the words, 'whom the king delighteth to honour!'
Reaching the head of the flight, where was a soldier on guard, thepage opened the door of the ante-chamber, and standing aside bade meenter. I did so, and heard the door close behind me.
For a moment I stood still, bashful and confused. It seemed to me thatthere were a hundred people in the room, and that half the eyes whichmet mine were women's. Though I was not altogether a stranger to suchstate as the Prince of Conde had maintained, this crowded anteroomfilled me with surprise, and even with a degree of awe, of which I wasthe next moment ashamed. True, the flutter of silk and gleam of jewelssurpassed anything I had then seen, for my fortunes had never led meto the king's Court; but an instant's reflection reminded me that myfathers had held their own in such scenes, and with a bow regulatedrather by this thought than by the shabbiness of my dress, I advancedamid a sudden silence.
'M. de Marsac!' the page announced, in a tone which sounded a littleodd in my ears; so much so, that I turned quickly to look at him. Hewas gone, however, and when I turned again the eyes which met minewere full of smiles. A young girl who stood near me tittered. Put outof countenance by this, I looked round in embarrassment to findsomeone to whom I might apply.
The room was long and narrow, panelled in chestnut, with a row ofwindows on the one hand, and two fireplaces, now heaped with glowinglogs, on the other. Between the fireplaces stood a rack of arms. Roundthe nearer hearth lounged a group of pages, the exact counterparts ofthe young blade who had brought me hither; and talking with these wereas many young gentlewomen. Two great hounds lay basking in the heat,and coiled between them, with her head on the back of the larger, wasa figure so strange that at another time I should have doubted myeyes. It wore the fool's motley and cap and bells, but a second glanceshowed me the features were a woman's. A torrent of black hair flowedloose about her neck, her eyes shone with wild merriment, and herface, keen, thin, and hectic, glared at me from the dog's back. Beyondher, round the farther fireplace, clustered more than a score ofgallants and ladies, of whom one presently advanced to me.
'Sir,' he said politely--and I wished I could match his bow--'youwished to see?'
'The King of Navarre,' I answered, doing my best.
He turned to the group behind him, and said, in a peculiarly even,placid tone, 'He wishes to see the King of Navarre.' Then in solemnsilence he bowed to me again and went back to his fellows.
Upon the instant, and before I could make up my mind how to take this,a second tripped forward, and saluting me, said, 'M. de Marsac, Ithink?'
'At your service, sir,' I rejoined. In my eagerness to escape the gazeof all those eyes, and the tittering which was audible behind me, Itook a step forward to be in readiness to follow him. But he gave nosign. 'M. de Marsac to see the King of Navarre' was all he said,speaking as the other had done to those behind. And with that he toowheeled round and went back to the fire.
I stared, a first faint suspicion of the truth aroused in my mind.Before I could act upon it, however--in such a situation it was noeasy task to decide how to act--a third advanced with the samemeasured steps. 'By appointment I think, sir?' he said, bowing lowerthan the others.
'Yes,' I replied sharply, beginning to grow warm, 'by appointment atnoon.'
'M. de Marsac,' he announced in a sing-song tone to those behind him,'to see the King of Navarre by appointment at noon.' And with a secondbow--while I grew scarlet with mortification--he too wheeled gravelyround and returned to the fireplace.
I saw another preparing to advance, but he came too late. Whether myface of anger and bewilderment was too much for them, or some amongthem lacked patience to see the end, a sudden uncontrollable shout oflaughter, in which all the room joined, cut short the farce. God knowsit hurt me: I winced, I looked this way and that, hoping here or thereto find sympathy and help. But it seemed to me that the place rangwith gibes, that every panel framed, however I turned myself, a cruel,sneering face. One behind me cried 'Old Clothes,' and when I turnedthe other hearth whispered the taunt. It added a thousandfold to myembarrassment that there was in all a certain orderliness, so thatwhile no one moved, and none, while I looked at them, raised theirvoices, I seemed the more singled out, and placed as a butt in themidst.
One face amid the pyramid of countenances which hid the fartherfireplace so burned itself into my recollection in that miserablemoment, that I never thereafter forgot it; a small, delicate woman'sface, belonging to a young girl who stood boldly in front of hercompanions. It was a face full of pride, and, as I saw it then, ofscorn--scorn that scarcely deigned to laugh; while the girl's gracefulfigure, slight and maidenly, yet perfectly proportioned, seemedinstinct with the same feeling of contemptuous amusement.
The play, which seemed long enough to me, might have lasted longer,seeing that no one there had pity on me, had I not, in my desperation,espied a door at the farther end of the room, and concluded, seeing noother, that it was the door of the king's bedchamber. Themortification I was suffering was so great that I did not hesitate,but advanced with boldness towards it. On the instant there was a lullin the laughter round me, and half a dozen voices called on me tostop.
'I have come to see the king,' I answered, turning on them fiercely,for I was by this time in no mood for browbeating, 'and I will seehim!'
'He is out hunting,' cried all with one accord; and they signedimperiously to me to go back the way I had come.
But having the king's appointment safe in my pouch, I thought I hadgood reason to disbelieve them; and taking advantage of theirsurprise--for they had not expected so bold a step on my part--I wasat the door before they could prevent me. I heard Mathurine, the fool,who had sprung to her feet, cry 'Pardieu! he will take the Kingdom ofHeaven by force!' And those were the last words I heard; for, as Ilifted the latch--there was no one on guard there--a sudden swiftsilence fell upon the room behind me.
I pushed the door gently open and went in. There were two men sittingin one of the windows, who turned and looked angrily towards me. Forthe rest the room was empty. The king's walking-shoes lay by hischair, and beside them the boot-hooks and jack. A dog before the firegot up slowly and growled, and one of the men, rising from the trunkon which he had been sitting, came towards me and asked me, with everysign of irritation, what I wanted there, and who had given me leave toenter.
I was beginning to explain, with some diffidence--the stillness of theroom sobering me--that I wished to see the king, when he who hadadvanced took me up sharply with, 'The king? the king? He is not here,man. He is hunting at St. Valery. Did they not tell you so outside?'
I thought I recognised the speaker, than whom I have seldom seen a manmore grave and thoughtful for his years, which were something lessthan mine, more striking in presence, or more soberly dressed. Andbeing desirous to evade his question, I asked him if I had not thehonour to address M. du Plessis Mornay; for that wise and courtlystatesman, now a pillar of Henry's counsels, it was.
'The same, sir,' he replied abruptly, and without taking his eyes fromme. 'I am Mornay. What of that?'
'I am M. de Marsac,' I explained. And there I stopped, supposing that,as he was in the king's confidence, this would make my errand clear tohim.
But I was disappointed. 'Well, sir?' he said, and waited impatiently.
So cold a reception, following such treatment as I had sufferedoutside, would have sufficed to have dashed my spirits utterly had Inot felt the king's letter in my pocket. Being pretty confident,however, that a single glance at this would alter M. du Mornay'sbearing for the better, I hastened, looking on it as a kind oftalisman, to draw it out and present it to him.
He took it, and looked at it, and opened it, but with so cold andimmovable an aspect as made my heart sink more than all that had goneb
efore. 'What is amiss?' I cried, unable to keep silence. ''Tis fromthe king, sir.'
'A king in motley!' he answered, his lip curling.
The sense of his words did not at once strike home to me, and Imurmured, in great disorder, that the king had sent for me.
'The king knows nothing of it,' was his blunt answer, bluntly given.And he thrust the paper back into my hands. 'It is a trick,' hecontinued, speaking with the same abruptness, 'for which you havedoubtless to thank some of those idle young rascals without. You hadsent an application to the king, I suppose? Just so. No doubt they gothold of it, and this is the result. They ought to be whipped.'
It was not possible for me to doubt any longer that what he said wastrue. I saw in a moment all my hopes vanish, all my plans flung to thewinds; and in the first shock of the discovery I could neither findvoice to answer him nor strength to withdraw. In a kind of vision Iseemed to see my own lean, haggard face looking at me as in a glass,and, reading despair in my eyes, could have pitied myself.
My disorder was so great that M. du Mornay observed it. Looking moreclosely at me, he two or three times muttered my name, and at lastsaid, 'M. de Marsac? Ha! I remember. You were in the affair ofBrouage, were you not?'
I nodded my head in token of assent, being unable at the moment tospeak, and so shaken that perforce I leaned against the wall, my headsunk on my breast. The memory of my age, my forty years, and mypoverty, pressed hard upon me, filling me with despair and bitterness.I could have wept, but no tears came.
M. du Mornay, averting his eyes from me, took two or three short,impatient turns up and down the chamber. When he addressed me againhis tone was full of respect, mingled with such petulance as one braveman might feel, seeing another so hard pressed. 'M. de Marsac,' hesaid, 'you have my sympathy. It is a shame that men who have servedthe cause should be reduced to such straits. Were it possible for meto increase my own train at present, I should consider it an honour tohave you with me. But I am hard put to it myself, and so are we all,and the King of Navarre not least among us. He has lived for a monthupon a wood which M. de Rosny has cut down. I will mention your nameto him, but I should be cruel rather than kind were I not to warn youthat nothing can come of it.'
With that he offered me his hand, and, cheered as much by this mark ofconsideration as by the kindness of his expressions, I rallied myspirits. True, I wanted comfort more substantial, but it was not to behad. I thanked him therefore as becomingly as I could, and seeingthere was no help for it, took my leave of him, and slowly andsorrowfully withdrew from the room.
Alas! to escape I had to face the outside world, for which his kindwords were an ill preparation. I had to run the gauntlet of theante-chamber. The moment I appeared, or rather the moment the doorclosed behind me, I was hailed with a shout of derision. While onecried, 'Way! way for the gentleman who has seen the king!' anotherhailed me uproariously as Governor of Guyenne, and a third requested acommission in my regiment.
I heard these taunts with a heart full almost to bursting. It seemedto me an unworthy thing that, merely by reason of my poverty, I shouldbe derided by youths who had still all their battles before them; butto stop or reproach them would only, as I well knew, make mattersworse, and, moreover, I was so sore stricken that I had little spiritleft even to speak. Accordingly, I made my way through them with whatspeed I might, my head bent, and my countenance heavy with shame anddepression. In this way--I wonder there were not among them somegenerous enough to pity me--I had nearly gained the door, and wasbeginning to breathe, when I found my path stopped by that particularyoung lady of the Court whom I have described above. Something had forthe moment diverted her attention from me, and it required a word fromher companions to apprise her of my near neighbourhood. She turnedthen, as one taken by surprise, and finding me so close to her that myfeet all but touched her gown, she stepped quickly aside, and with aglance as cruel as her act, drew her skirts away from contact with me.
The insult stung me, I know not why, more than all the gibes whichwere being flung at me from every side, and moved by a sudden impulseI stopped, and in the bitterness of my heart spoke to her.'Mademoiselle,' I said, bowing low--for, as I have stated, she wassmall, and more like a fairy than a woman, though her face expressedboth pride and self-will--'Mademoiselle,' I said sternly, 'such as Iam, I have fought for France! Some day you may learn that there areviler things in the world--and have to bear them--than a poorgentleman!'
The words were scarcely out of my mouth before I repented of them, forMathurine, the fool, who was at my elbow, was quick to turn them intoridicule. Raising her hands above our heads, as in act to bless us,she cried out that Monsieur, having gained so rich an office, desireda bride to grace it; and this, bringing down upon us a coarse shout oflaughter and some coarser gibes, I saw the young girl's face flushhotly.
The next moment a voice in the crowd cried roughly, 'Out upon hiswedding suit!' and with that a sweetmeat struck me in the face.Another and another followed, covering me with flour and comfits. Thiswas the last straw. For a moment, forgetting where I was, I turnedupon them, red and furious, every hair in my moustachios bristling.The next, the full sense of my impotence and of the folly ofresentment prevailed with me, and, dropping my head upon my breast, Irushed from the room.
I believe that the younger among them followed me, and that the cry of'Old Clothes!' pursued me even to the door of my lodgings in the Ruede la Coutellerie. But in the misery of the moment, and my strongdesire to be within doors and alone, I barely noticed this, and am notcertain whether it was so or not.
Historical Romances: Under the Red Robe, Count Hannibal, A Gentleman of France Page 53