CHAPTER XXIII.
THE LAST VALOIS.
I stood for a few moments on the stairs, wondering what I should do inan emergency to which the Marquis's message of the afternoon attachedso pressing a character. Had it not been for that I might have waiteduntil morning, and felt tolerably certain of finding mademoiselle in amore reasonable mood then. But as it was I dared not wait. I dared notrisk the delay, and I came quickly to the conclusion that the onlycourse open to me was to go at once to M. de Rambouillet, and tell himfrankly how the matter stood.
Maignan had posted one of his men at the open doorway leading into thestreet, and fixed his own quarters on the landing at the top, whencehe could overlook an intruder without being seen himself. Satisfiedwith the arrangement, I left Rambouillet's man to reinforce him, andtook with me Simon Fleix, of whose conduct in regard to mademoiselle Ientertained the gravest doubts.
The night, I found on reaching the street, was cold, the sky where itwas visible between the eaves being bright with stars. A sharp windwas blowing, too, compelling us to wrap our cloaks round us and hurryon at a pace which agreed well with the excitement of my thoughts.Assured that had mademoiselle been complaisant I might have seen mymission accomplished within the hour, it was impossible I should notfeel impatient with one who, to gratify a whim, played with thesecrets of a kingdom as if they were counters, and risked in passingill-humour the results of weeks of preparation. And I was impatient,and with her. But my resentment fell so far short of the occasion thatI wondered uneasily at my own easiness, and felt more annoyed withmyself for failing to be properly annoyed with her, than inclined tolay the blame where it was due. It was in vain I told myselfcontemptuously that she was a woman, and that women were notaccountable. I felt that the real secret and motive of my indulgencelay, not in this, but in the suspicion, which her reference to thefavour given me on my departure from Rosny had converted almost into acertainty, that I was myself the cause of her sudden ill-humour.
I might have followed this train of thought farther, and to verypertinent conclusions. But on reaching M. de Rambouillet's lodging Iwas diverted from it by the abnormally quiet aspect of the house, onthe steps of which half a dozen servants might commonly be seenlounging. Now the doors were closed, no lights shone through thewindows, and the hall sounded empty and desolate when I knocked. Not alackey hurried to receive me even then; but the slipshod tread of theold porter, as he came with a lantern to open, alone broke thesilence. I waited eagerly wondering what all this could mean; and whenthe man at last opened, and, recognising my face, begged my pardon ifhe had kept me waiting I asked him impatiently what was the matter.
'And where is the Marquis?' I added, stepping inside to be out of thewind, and loosening my cloak.
'Have you not heard, sir?' the man asked, holding up his lantern to myface. He was an old, wizened, lean fellow. 'It is a break-up, sir, Iam afraid, this time.'
'A break-up?' I rejoined, peevishly. 'Speak out, man! What is thematter? I hate mysteries.'
'You have not heard the news, sir? That the Duke of Merc[oe]ur andMarshal Retz, with all their people, left Blois this afternoon?'
'No?' I answered, somewhat startled. 'Whither are they gone?'
'To Paris, it is said, sir,--to join the League.'
'But do you mean that they have deserted the king?' I asked.
'For certain, sir!' he answered.
'Not the Duke of Merc[oe]ur?' I exclaimed. 'Why, man, he is the king'sbrother-in-law. He owes everything to him.'
'Well, he is gone, sir,' the old man answered positively. 'The newswas brought to M. le Marquis about four o'clock or a little after. Hegot his people together, and started after them to try and persuadethem to return. Or, so it is said.'
As quickly as I could, I reviewed the situation in my mind. If thisstrange news were true, and men like Merc[oe]ur, who had every reasonto stand by the king, as well as men like Retz, who had long beensuspected of disaffection, were abandoning the Court, the danger mustbe coming close indeed. The king must feel his throne alreadytottering, and be eager to grasp at any means of supporting it.Under such circumstances it seemed to be my paramount duty to reachhim; to gain his ear if possible, and at all risks; that I andnot Bruhl, Navarre not Turenne, might profit by the first impulse ofself-preservation.
Bidding the porter shut his door and keep close, I hurried to theCastle, and was presently more than confirmed in my resolution. For tomy surprise I found the Court in much the same state as M. deRambouillet's house. There were double guards indeed at the gates, wholet me pass after scrutinising me narrowly; but the courtyard, whichshould have been at this hour ablaze with torches and crowded withlackeys and grooms, was a dark wilderness, in which half a dozen linkstrembled mournfully. Passing through the doors I found things withinin the same state: the hall ill lit and desolate; the staircase mannedonly by a few whispering groups, who scanned me as I passed; theantechambers almost empty, or occupied by the grey uniforms of theSwitzer guards. Where I had looked to see courtiers assembling to meettheir sovereign and assure him of their fidelity, I found only gloomyfaces, watchful eyes, and mouths ominously closed. An air ofconstraint and fore, boding rested on all. A single footstep soundedhollowly. The long corridors, which had so lately rung with laughterand the rattle of dice, seemed already devoted to the silence anddesolation which awaited them when the Court should depart. Where anyspoke I caught the name of Guise; and I could have fancied that hismighty shadow lay upon the place and cursed it.
Entering the chamber, I found matters little better there. His Majestywas not present, nor were any of the Court ladies; but half a dozengentlemen, among whom I recognised Revol, one of the king'ssecretaries, stood near the alcove. They looked up on my entrance, asthough expecting news, and then, seeing who it was, looked away againimpatiently. The Duke of Nevers was walking moodily to and fro beforeone of the windows, his hands clasped behind his back: while Biron andCrillon, reconciled by the common peril, talked loudly on the hearth.I hesitated a moment, uncertain how to proceed, for I was not yet soold at Court as to feel at home there. But, at last making up my mind,I walked boldly up to Crillon and requested his good offices toprocure me an immediate audience of the king.
'An audience? Do you mean you want to see him alone?' he said, raisinghis eyebrows and looking whimsically at Biron.
'That is my petition, M. de Crillon,' I answered firmly, though myheart sank. 'I am here on M. de Rambouillet's business, and I need tosee his Majesty forthwith.'
'Well, that is straightforward,' he replied, clapping me on theshoulder. 'And you shall see him. In coming to Crillon you have cometo the right man. Revol,' he continued, turning to the secretary,'this gentleman bears a message from M. de Rambouillet to the king.Take him to the closet without delay, my friend, and announce him. Iwill be answerable for him.'
But the secretary shrugged his shoulders up to his ears. 'It is quiteimpossible, M. de Crillon,' he said gravely. 'Quite impossible atpresent.'
'Impossible! Chut! I do not know the word,' Crillon retorted rudely.'Come, take him at once, and blame me if ill comes of it. Do youhear?'
'But his Majesty----'
'Well?'
'Is at his devotions,' the secretary said stiffly.
'His Majesty's devotions be hanged!' Crillon rejoined--so loudly thatthere was a general titter, and M. de Nevers laughed grimly. 'Do youhear?' the Avennais continued, his face growing redder and his voicehigher, 'or must I pull your ears, my friend? Take this gentleman tothe closet, I say, and if his Majesty be angry, tell him it was by myorder. I tell you he comes from Rambouillet.'
I do not know whether it was the threat, or the mention of M. deRambouillet's name, which convinced the secretary. But at any rate,after a moment's hesitation, he acquiesced.
He nodded sullenly to me to follow him, and led the way to a curtainwhich masked the door of the closet. I followed him across thechamber, after muttering a hasty word of acknowledgment to C
rillon;and I had as nearly as possible reached the door when the bustle ofsome one entering the chamber caught my ear. I had just time to turnand see that this was Bruhl, just time to intercept the dark look ofchagrin and surprise which he fixed on me, and then Revol, holding upthe curtain, signed to me to enter.
I expected to pass at once into the presence of the king, and had myreverence ready. Instead, I found myself to my surprise in a smallchamber, or rather passage, curtained at both ends, and occupiedby a couple of guardsmen--members, doubtless, of the Band of theForty-Five--who rose at my entrance and looked at me dubiously. Theirguard-room, dimly illumined by a lamp of red glass, seemed to me, inspite of its curtains and velvet bench, and the thick tapestry whichkept out every breath of wholesome air, the most sombre I couldimagine. And the most ill-omened. But I had no time to make any longobservation; for Revol, passing me brusquely, raised the curtain atthe other end, and, with his finger on his lip, bade me by signs toenter.
I did so as silently, the heavy scent of perfumes striking me in theface as I raised a second curtain, and stopped short a pace beyond it;partly in reverence--because kings love their subjects best at adistance--and partly in surprise. For the room, or rather that portionof it in which I stood, was in darkness; only the farther end beingillumined by a cold pale flood of moonlight, which, passing through ahigh, straight window, lay in a silvery sheet on the floor. For aninstant I thought I was alone; then I saw, resting against thiswindow, with a hand on either mullion, a tall figure, having somethingstrange about the head. This peculiarity presently resolved itselfinto the turban in which I had once before seen his Majesty. Theking--for he it was--was talking to himself. He had not heard meenter, and having his back to me remained unconscious of my presence.
I paused in doubt, afraid to advance, anxious to withdraw; yetuncertain whether I could move again unheard. At this moment while Istood hesitating, he raised his voice, and his words, reaching myears, riveted my attention, so strange and eerie were both they andhis tone. 'They say there is ill-luck in thirteen,' he muttered.'Thirteen Valois and last!' He paused to laugh a wicked, mirthlesslaugh. 'Ay,--Thirteenth! And it is thirteen years since I enteredParis, a crowned King! There were Quelus and Maugiron and St. Megrinand I--and _he_, I remember. Ah, those days, those nights! I wouldsell my soul to live them again; had I not sold it long ago in theliving them once! We were young then, and rich, and I was king;and Quelus was an Apollo! He died calling on me to save him. AndMaugiron died, blaspheming God and the saints. And St. Megrin, he hadthirty-four wounds. And _he_--he is dead too, curse him! They are alldead, all dead, and it is all over! My God! it is all over, it is allover, it is all over!'
He repeated the last four words more than a dozen times, rockinghimself to and fro by his hold on the mullions. I trembled as Ilistened, partly through fear on my own account should I bediscovered, and partly by reason of the horror of despair andremorse--no, not remorse, regret--which spoke in his monotonous voice.I guessed that some impulse had led him to draw the curtain from thewindow and shade the lamp; and that then, as he looked down on themoonlit country, the contrast between it and the vicious, heatedatmosphere, heavy with intrigue and worse, in which he had spent hisstrength, had forced itself upon his mind. For he presently went on.
'France! There it lies! And what will they do with it? Will theycut it up into pieces, as it was before old Louis XI.? WillMerc[oe]ur--curse him!--be the most Christian Duke of Brittany? AndMayenne, by the grace of God, Prince of Paris and the Upper Seine? Orwill the little Prince of Bearn beat them, and be Henry IV., King ofFrance and Navarre, Protector of the Churches? Curse him too! He isthirty-six. He is my age. But he is young and strong, and has allbefore him. While I--I--oh, my God, have mercy on me! Have mercy onme, O God in Heaven!'
With the last word he fell on his knees on the step before the window,and burst into such an agony of unmanly tears and sobbings as I hadnever dreamed of or imagined, and least of all in the King of France.Hardly knowing whether to be more ashamed or terrified, I turned atall risks, and stealthily lifting the curtain, crept out with infinitecare; and happily with so much good fortune as to escape detection.There was space enough between the two curtains to admit my body andno more; and here I stood a short while to collect my thoughts. Then,striking my scabbard against the wall, as though by accident, andcoughing loudly at the same moment, I twitched the curtain aside withsome violence and re-entered, thinking that by these means I had givenhim warning enough.
But I had not reckoned on the darkness in which the room lay, or theexcitable state in which I had left him. He heard me, indeed, butbeing able to see only a tall, indistinct figure approaching him, hetook fright, and falling back against the moonlit window, as though hesaw a ghost, thrust out his hand, gasping at the same time two words,which sounded to me like 'Ha! Guise!'
The next instant, discerning that I fell on my knee where I stood, andcame no nearer, he recovered himself. With an effort, which hisbreathing made very apparent, he asked in an unsteady voice who itwas.
'One of your Majesty's most faithful servants,' I answered, remainingon my knee, and affecting to see nothing.
Keeping his face towards me, he sidled to the lamp and strove towithdraw the shade. But his fingers trembled so violently that it wassome time before he succeeded, and set free the cheerful beams, which,suddenly filling the room with radiance, disclosed to my wonderingeyes, instead of darkness and the cold gleam of the moon, a profusionof riches, of red stuffs and gemmed trifles and gilded arms crowdedtogether in reckless disorder. A monkey chained in one corner began togibber and mow at me. A cloak of strange cut, stretched on a woodenstand, deceived me for an instant into thinking that there was a thirdperson present; while the table, heaped with dolls and powder-puffs,dog-collars and sweet-meats, a mask, a woman's slipper, a pair ofpistols, some potions, a scourge, and an immense quantity of likelitter, had as melancholy an appearance in my eyes as the kinghimself, whose disorder the light disclosed without mercy. His turbanwas awry, and betrayed the premature baldness of his scalp. The painton his cheeks was cracked and stained, and had soiled the gloves hewore. He looked fifty years old; and in his excitement he had tuggedhis sword to the front, whence it refused to be thrust back.
'Who sent you here?' he asked, when he had so far recovered his sensesas to recognise me, which he did with great surprise.
'I am here, sire,' I answered evasively, 'to place myself at yourMajesty's service.'
'Such loyalty is rare,' he answered, with a bitter sneer. 'But standup, sir. I suppose I must be thankful for small mercies, and, losing aMerc[oe]ur, be glad to receive a Marsac.'
'By your leave, sire,' I rejoined hardily, 'the exchange is not soadverse. Your Majesty may make another duke when you will. But honestmen are not so easily come by.'
'So! so!' he answered, looking at me with a fierce light in his eyes.'You remind me in season. I may still make and unmake! I am still Kingof France? That is so, sirrah, is it not?'
'God forbid that it should be otherwise!' I answered earnestly. 'It isto lay before your Majesty certain means by which you may give fullereffect to your wishes that I am here. The King of Navarre desiresonly, sire----'
'Tut, tut!' he exclaimed impatiently, and with some displeasure, 'Iknow his will better than you, man. But you see,' he continuedcunningly, forgetting my inferior position as quickly as he hadremembered it, 'Turenne promises well, too. And Turenne--it is true hemay play the Lorrainer. But if I trust Henry of Navarre, and he provefalse to me----'
He did not complete the sentence, but strode to and fro a time or two,his mind, which had a natural inclination towards crooked courses,bent on some scheme by which he might play off the one party againstthe other. Apparently he was not very successful in finding one,however; or else the ill-luck with which he had supported the Leagueagainst the Huguenots recurred to his mind. For he presently stopped,with a sigh, and came back to the point.
'If I knew that Turenne were lying,' he muttered, 'then indeed----.But Rosny p
romised evidence, and he has sent me none.'
'It is at hand, sire,' I answered, my heart beginning to beat. 'YourMajesty will remember that M. de Rosny honoured me with the task ofintroducing it to you.'
'To be sure,' he replied, awaking as from a dream, and looking andspeaking eagerly. 'Matters to-day have driven everything out of myhead. Where is your witness, man? Convince me, and we will actpromptly. We will give them Jarnac and Moncontour over again. Is heoutside?'
'It is a woman, sire,' I made answer, dashed somewhat by his suddenand feverish alacrity.
'A woman, eh? You have her here?'
'No, sire,' I replied, wondering what he would say to my next piece ofinformation. 'She is in Blois, she has arrived, but the truth is--Ihumbly crave your Majesty's indulgence--she refuses to come or speak.I cannot well bring her here by force, and I have sought you, sire,for the purpose of taking your commands in the matter.'
He stared at me in the utmost astonishment.
'Is she young?' he asked after a long pause.
'Yes, sire,' I answered. 'She is maid of honour to the Princess ofNavarre, and a ward also of the Vicomte de Turenne.'
'Gad! then she is worth hearing, the little rebel!' he replied. 'Award of Turenne's is she? Ho! ho! And now she will not speak? Mycousin of Navarre now would know how to bring her to her senses, but Ihave eschewed these vanities. I might send and have her brought, it istrue; but a very little thing would cause a barricade to-night.'
'And besides, sire,' I ventured to add, 'she is known to Turenne'speople here, who have once stolen her away. Were she brought to yourMajesty with any degree of openness, they would learn it, and knowthat the game was lost.'
'Which would not suit me,' he answered, nodding and looking at megloomily. 'They might anticipate our Jarnac; and until we have settledmatters with one or the other our person is not too secure. You mustgo and fetch her. She is at your lodging. She must be brought, man.'
'I will do what you command, sire,' I answered. 'But I am greatlyafraid that she will not come.'
He lost his temper at that. 'Then why, in the devil's name, haveyou troubled me with the matter?' he cried savagely. 'God knows--Idon't--why Rosny employed such a man and such a woman. He might haveseen from the cut of your cloak, sir, which is full six months behindthe fashion, that you could not manage a woman! Was ever such damnablefolly heard of in this world? But it is Navarre's loss, not mine. Itis his loss. And I hope to Heaven it may be yours too!' he addedfiercely.
There was so much in what he said that I bent before the storm, andaccepted with humility blame which was as natural on his part as itwas undeserved on mine. Indeed I could not wonder at his Majesty'sanger; nor should I have wondered at it in a greater man. I knew thatbut for reasons, on which I did not wish to dwell, I should haveshared it to the full, and spoken quite as strongly of the capricewhich ruined hopes and lives for a whim.
The king continued for some time to say to me all the hard things hecould think of. Wearied at last by my patience, he paused, and criedangrily. 'Well, have you nothing to say for yourself? Can you suggestnothing?'
'I dare not mention to your Majesty,' I said humbly, 'what seems to meto be the only alternative.'
'You mean that I should go to the wench!' he answered--for he did notlack quickness. '"_Se no va el otero a Mahoma, vaya Mahoma al otero_,"as Mendoza says. But the saucy quean, to force me to go to her! Did mywife guess--but there, I will go. By God I will go!' he added abruptlyand fiercely. 'I will live to ruin Retz yet! Where is your lodging?'
I told him, wondering much at this flash of the old spirit, whichtwenty years before had won him a reputation his later life didnothing to sustain.
'Do you know,' he asked, speaking with sustained energy and clearness,'the door by which M. de Rosny entered to talk with me? Can you findit in the dark?'
'Yes, sire,' I answered, my heart beating high.
'Then be in waiting there two hours before midnight,' he replied. 'Bewell armed, but alone. I shall know how to make the girl speak. I cantrust you, I suppose?' he added suddenly, stepping nearer to me andlooking fixedly into my eyes.
'I will answer for your Majesty's life with my own,' I replied,sinking on one knee.
'I believe you, sir,' he answered gravely, giving me his hand to kiss,and then turning away. 'So be it. Now leave me. You have been here toolong already. Not a word to any one as you value your life.'
I made fitting answer and was leaving him; but when I had my handalready on the curtain, he called me back. 'In Heaven's name get a newcloak!' he said peevishly, eyeing me all over with his face puckeredup. 'Get a new cloak, man, the first thing in the morning. It is worseseen from the side than the front. It would ruin the cleverestcourtier of them all!'
Historical Romances: Under the Red Robe, Count Hannibal, A Gentleman of France Page 75