Une fille du régent. English

by Alexandre Dumas

  CHAPTER XXXII.

  SHOWING THAT WE MUST NOT ALWAYS JUDGE OTHERS BY OURSELVES, ABOVE ALL IFWE ARE CALLED DUBOIS.

  The regent, as usual, passed the evening with Helene. He had not missedfor four or five days, and the hours he passed with her were his happyhours, but this time he found her very much shaken by her visit to herlover in the Bastille.

  "Come," said the regent, "take courage, Helene; to-morrow you shall behis wife."

  "To-morrow is distant," replied she.

  "Helene, believe in my word, which has never failed you. I tell you thatto-morrow shall dawn happily for you and for him."

  Helene sighed deeply.

  A servant entered and spoke to the regent.

  "What is it?" asked Helene, who was alarmed at the slightest thing.

  "Nothing, my child," said the duke; "it is only my secretary, who wishesto see me on some pressing business."

  "Shall I leave you?"

  "Yes; do me that favor for an instant."

  Helene withdrew into her room.

  At the same time the door opened and Dubois entered, out of breath.

  "Where do you come from in such a state?"

  "Parbleu! from the Bastille."

  "And our prisoner?"

  "Well."

  "Is everything arranged for the marriage."

  "Yes, everything but the hour, which you did not name."

  "Let us say eight in the morning."

  "At eight in the morning," said Dubois, calculating.

  "Yes, what are you calculating?"

  "I am thinking where he will be."

  "Who?"

  "The prisoner."

  "What! the prisoner!"

  "Yes; at eight o'clock he will be forty leagues from Paris!"

  "From Paris!"

  "Yes; if he continues to go at the pace at which I saw him set out."

  "What do you mean?"

  "I mean, monseigneur, that there will be one thing only wanting at themarriage; the husband."

  "Gaston?"

  "Has escaped from the Bastille half-an-hour ago."

  "You lie, abbe; people do not escape from the Bastille."

  "I beg your pardon, monseigneur; people escape from any place when theyare condemned to death."

  "He escaped, knowing that to-morrow he was to wed her whom he loved?"

  "Listen, monseigneur, life is a charming thing, and we all cling to it;then your son-in-law has a charming head which he wishes to keep on hisshoulders--what more natural?"

  "And where is he?"

  "Perhaps I may be able to tell you to-morrow evening; at present, all Iknow is that he is at some distance, and that I will answer for it hewill not return."

  The regent became deeply thoughtful.

  "Really, monseigneur, your naivete causes me perpetual astonishment; youmust be strangely ignorant of the human heart if you suppose that a mancondemned to death would remain in prison when he had a chance ofescape."

  "Oh! Monsieur de Chanlay!" cried the regent.

  "Eh, mon Dieu! this chevalier has acted as the commonest workman wouldhave done, and quite right too."

  "Dubois! and my daughter?"

  "Well, your daughter, monseigneur?"

  "It will kill her," said the regent.

  "Oh no, monseigneur, not at all; when she finds out what he is, she willbe consoled, and you can marry her to some small German or Italianprince--to the Duke of Modena, for instance, whom Mademoiselle de Valoiswill not have."

  "Dubois! and I meant to pardon him."

  "He has done it for himself, monseigneur, thinking it safer, and ma foi!I should have done the same."

  "Oh you; you are not noble, you had not taken an oath."

  "You mistake, monseigneur; I had taken an oath, to prevent your highnessfrom committing a folly, and I have succeeded."

  "Well, well, let us speak of it no more, not a word of this beforeHelene--I will undertake to tell her."

  "And I, to get back your son-in-law."

  "No, no, he has escaped, let him profit by it."

  As the regent spoke these words a noise was heard in the neighboringroom, and a servant entering, hurriedly announced--

  "Monsieur Gaston de Chanlay."

  Dubois turned pale as death, and his face assumed an expression ofthreatening anger. The regent rose in a transport of joy, which broughta bright color into his face--there was as much pleasure in this face,rendered sublime by confidence, as there was compressed fury inDubois's sharp and malignant countenance.

  THE REGENT.--Page 544.]

  "Let him enter," said the regent.

  "At least, give me time to go," said Dubois.

  "Ah! yes, he would recognize you."

  Dubois retired with a growling noise, like a hyena disturbed in itsfeast, or in its lair; he entered the next room. There he sat down by atable on which was every material for writing, and this seemed tosuggest some new and terrible idea, for his face suddenly lighted up.

  He rang.

  "Send for the portfolio which is in my carriage," said he to the servantwho appeared.

  This order being executed at once, Dubois seized some papers, wrote onthem some words with an expression of sinister joy, then, having orderedhis carriage, drove to the Palais Royal.

  Meanwhile the chevalier was led to the regent, and walked straight up tohim.

  "How! you here, monsieur!" said the duke, trying to look surprised.

  "Yes, monseigneur, a miracle has been worked in my favor by LaJonquiere; he had prepared all for flight, he asked for me underpretense of consulting me as to confessions; then, when we were alone,he told me all and we escaped together and in safety."

  "And instead of flying, monsieur, gaining the frontier, and placingyourself in safety, you are here at the peril of your life."

  "Monseigneur," said Gaston, blushing, "I must confess that for a momentliberty seemed to me the most precious and the sweetest thing the worldcould afford. The first breath of air I drew seemed to intoxicate me,but I soon reflected."

  "On one thing, monsieur?"

  "On two, monseigneur."

  "You thought of Helene, whom you were abandoning."

  "And of my companions, whom I left under the ax."

  "And then you decided?"

  "That I was bound to their cause till our projects were accomplished."

  "Our projects!"

  "Yes, are they not yours as well as mine?"

  "Listen, monsieur," said the regent; "I believe that man must keepwithin the limits of his strength. There are things which God seems toforbid him to execute; there are warnings which tell him to renouncecertain projects. I believe that it is sacrilege to despise thesewarnings, to remain deaf to this voice; our projects have miscarried,monsieur, let us think no more of them."

  "On the contrary, monseigneur," said Gaston, sadly shaking his head,"let us think of them more than ever."

  "But you are furious, monsieur," said the regent, "to persist in anundertaking which has now become so difficult that it is almostmadness."

  "I think, monseigneur, of our friends arrested, tried, condemned; M.d'Argenson told me so; of our friends who are destined to the scaffold,and who can be saved only by the death of the regent; of our friends whowould say, if I were to leave France, that I purchased my safety bytheir ruin, and that the gates of the Bastille were opened by myrevelations."

  "Then, monsieur, to this point of honor you sacrifice everything, evenHelene?"

  "Monseigneur, if they be still alive I must save them."

  "But if they be dead?"

  "Then it is another thing," replied Gaston; "then I must revenge them."

  "Really, monsieur," said the duke, "this seems to me a somewhatexaggerated idea of heroism. It seems to me that you have, in your ownperson, already paid your share. Believe me, take the word of a man whois a good judge in affairs of honor; you are absolved in the eyes of thewhole world, my dear Brutus."

  "I am not in my own, monseigneur."

  "Then you pe
rsist?"

  "More than ever; the regent must die, and," added he in a hollow voice,"die he shall."

  "But do you not first wish to see Mademoiselle de Chaverny?" asked theregent.

  "Yes, monseigneur, but first I must have your promise to aid me in myproject. Remember, monseigneur; there is not an instant to lose; mycompanions are condemned, as I was. Tell me at once, before I seeHelene, that you will not abandon me. Let me make a new engagement withyou--I am a man; I love, and therefore I am weak. I shall have tostruggle against her tears and against my own weakness; monseigneur, Iwill only see Helene under the condition that you will enable me to seethe regent."

  "And if I refuse that condition?"

  "Then, monseigneur, I will not see Helene; I am dead to her; it isuseless to renew hope in her which she must lose again, it is enoughthat she must weep for me once."

  "And you would still persist?"

  "Yes, but with less chance."

  "Then what would you do?"

  "Wait for the regent wherever he goes, and strike him whenever I canfind him."

  "Think once more," said the duke.

  "By the honor of my name," replied Gaston, "I once more implore youraid, or I declare that I will find means to dispense with it."

  "Well, monsieur, go and see Helene, and you shall have my answer on yourreturn."

  "Where?"

  "In that room."

  "And the answer shall be according to my desire?"

  "Yes."

  Gaston went into Helene's room; she was kneeling before a crucifix,praying that her lover might be restored to her. At the noise whichGaston made in opening the door she turned round.

  Believing that God had worked a miracle, and uttering a cry, she heldout her arms toward the chevalier, but without the strength to raiseherself.

  "Oh, mon Dieu! is it himself? is it his shade?"

  "It is myself, Helene," said the young man, darting toward her, andgrasping her hands.

  "But how? a prisoner this morning--free, this evening?"

  "I escaped, Helene."

  "And then you thought of me, you ran to me, you would not fly withoutme. Oh! I recognize my Gaston there. Well--I am ready, take me where youwill--I am yours--I am--"

  "Helene," said Gaston, "you are not the bride of an ordinary man; if Ihad been only like all other men you would not have loved me."

  "Oh, no!"

  "Well, Helene, to superior souls superior duties are allotted, andconsequently greater trials; before I can be yours I have to accomplishthe mission on which I came to Paris; we have both a fatal destiny tofulfill. Our life or death hangs on a single event which must beaccomplished to-night."

  "What do you mean?" cried the young girl.

  "Listen, Helene," replied Gaston, "if in four hours, that is to say, bydaybreak, you have no news of me, do not expect me, believe that allthat has passed between us is but a dream--and, if you can obtainpermission to do so, come again and see me in the Bastille."

  Helene trembled, Gaston took her back to her prie-Dieu, where she knelt.

  Then, kissing her on the forehead as a brother might have done--"Prayon, Helene;" said he, "for in praying for me you pray also for Bretagneand for France." Then he rushed out of the room.

  "Alas! alas!" murmured Helene, "save _him_, my God! and what care I forthe rest of the world."

  Gaston was met by a servant who gave him a note, telling him the dukewas gone.

  The note was as follows:

  "There is a bal masque to-night at Monceaux; the regent will be there. He generally retires toward one o'clock in the morning into a favorite conservatory, which is situated at the end of the gilded gallery. No one enters there ordinarily but himself, because this habit of his is known and respected. The regent will be dressed in a black velvet domino, on the left arm of which is embroidered a golden bee. He hides this sign in a fold when he wishes to remain incognito. The card I inclose is an ambassador's ticket. With this you will be admitted, not only to the ball, but to this conservatory, where you will appear to seek a private interview. Use it for your encounter with the regent. My carriage is below, in which you will find my own domino. The coachman is at your orders."

  On reading this note, which, as it were, brought him face to face withthe man he meant to assassinate, a cold perspiration passed overGaston's forehead, and he was obliged for a moment to lean against achair for support; but suddenly, as if taking a violent resolution, hedarted down the staircase, jumped into the carriage, and cried--

  "To Monceaux!"

  Scarcely had he quitted the room, when a secret door in the woodworkopened, and the duke entered. He went to Helene's door, who uttered acry of delight at seeing him.

  "Well," said the regent sadly, "are you content, Helene?"

  "Oh! it is you, monseigneur?"

  "You see, my child, that my predictions are fulfilled--believe me when Isay, 'Hope.'"

  "Ah! monseigneur, are you then an angel come down to earth to stand tome in the place of the father whom I have lost?"

  "Alas," said the regent, smiling. "I am not an angel, my dear Helene;but such as I am, I will indeed be to you a father, and a tender one."

  Saying this, the regent took Helene's hand, and was about to kiss itrespectfully, but she raised her head and presented her forehead to him.

  "I see that you love him truly," said he.

  "Monseigneur, I bless you."

  "May your blessing bring me happiness," said the regent, then, goingdown to his carriage--

  "To the Palais Royal," said he, "but remember you have only a quarter ofan hour to drive to Monceaux."

  The horses flew along the road.

  As the carriage entered under the peristyle, a courier on horseback wassetting out.

  Dubois, having seen him start, closed the window and went back to hisapartments.