CHAPTER XXXIII.
MONCEAUX.
Meanwhile Gaston went toward Monceaux.
He had found the duke's domino and mask in the carriage. The mask was ofblack velvet--the domino of violet satin. He put them both on, andsuddenly remembered that he was without arms.
He thought, however, he should easily procure some weapon at Monceaux.As he approached, he found it was not a weapon that he needed, butcourage. There passed in his mind a terrible contest. Pride and humanitystruggled against each other, and, from time to time, he represented tohimself his friends in prison, condemned to a cruel and infamous death.
As the carriage entered the courtyard of Monceaux, he murmured,"Already!"
However, the carriage stopped, the door was opened, he must alight. Theprince's private carriage and coachman had been recognized, and all theservants overwhelmed him with attentions.
Gaston did not remark it--a kind of mist passed before his eyes--hepresented his card.
It was the custom then for both men and women to be masked: but it wasmore frequently the women than the men who went to these reunionsunmasked. At this period women spoke not only freely, but well, and themask hid neither folly nor inferiority of rank, for the women of thatday were all witty, and if they were handsome, they were soon titled:witness, the Duchesse de Chateauroux and the Comtesse Dubarry.
Gaston knew no one, but he felt instinctively that he was among the mostselect society of the day. Among the men were Novilles, Brancas,Broglie, St. Simon, and Biron. The women might be more mixed, butcertainly not less spirituelles, nor less elegant.
No one knew how to organize a fete like the regent. The luxury of goodtaste, the profusion of flowers, the lights, the princes andambassadors, the charming and beautiful women who surrounded him, allhad their effect on Gaston, who now recognized in the regent, not only aking, but a king at once powerful, gay, amiable, beloved, and above all,popular and national.
Gaston's heart beat when, seeking among these heads the one for whichhis blows were destined, he saw a black domino.
Without the mask which hid his face and concealed from all eyes itschanging expression, he would not have taken four steps through therooms without some one pointing him out as an assassin.
Gaston could not conceal from himself that there was something cowardlyin coming to a prince, his host, to change those brilliant lights intofuneral torches, to stain those dazzling tapestries with blood, toarouse the cry of terror amid the joyous tumult of a fete--and at thisthought his courage failed him, and he stepped toward the door.
"I will kill him outside," said he, "but not here."
Then he remembered the duke's directions, his card would open to him theisolated conservatory, and he murmured--
"He foresaw that I should be a coward."
He approached a sort of gallery containing buffets where the guests camefor refreshment. He went also, not that he was hungry or thirsty, butbecause he was unarmed. He chose a long, sharp and pointed knife, andput it under his domino, where he was sure no one could see it.
"The likeness to Ravaillac will be complete," said he.
At this moment, as Gaston turned, he heard a well-known voice say--
"You hesitate?"
Gaston opened his domino and showed the duke the knife which itconcealed.
"I see the knife glisten, but I also see the hand tremble."
"Yes, monseigneur, it is true," said Gaston; "I hesitated, I trembled,I felt inclined to fly--but thank God you are here."
"And your ferocious courage?" said the duke in a mocking voice.
"It is not that I have lost it."
"What has become of it then?"
"Monseigneur, I am under his roof."
"Yes; but in the conservatory you are not."
"Could you not show him to me first, that I might accustom myself to hispresence, that I may be inspired by the hatred I bear him, for I do notknow how to find him in this crowd?"
"Just now he was near you."
Gaston shuddered.
"Near me?" said he.
"As near as I am," replied the duke, gravely.
"I will go to the conservatory, monseigneur."
"Go then."
"Yet a moment, monseigneur, that I may recover myself."
"Very well, you know the conservatory is beyond that gallery; stay, thedoors are closed."
"Did you not say that with this card the servants would open them tome?"
"Yes; but it would be better to open them yourself--a servant might waitfor your exit. If you are thus agitated before you strike the blow, whatwill it be afterward? Then the regent probably will not fall withoutdefending himself--without a cry; they will all run to him, you will bearrested, and adieu your hope of the future. Think of Helene, who waitsfor you."
It is impossible to describe what was passing in Gaston's heart duringthis speech. The duke, however, watched its effect upon his countenance.
"Well," said Gaston, "what shall I do? advise me."
"When you are at the door of the conservatory, the one which opens on tothe gallery turning to the left--do you know?"
"Yes."
"Under the lock you will find a carved button--push it, and the doorwill open, unless it be fastened within. But the regent, who has nosuspicion, will not take this precaution. I have been there twenty timesfor a private audience. If he be not there, wait for him. You will knowhim, if there, by the black domino and the golden bee."
"Yes, yes; I know," said Gaston; not knowing, however, what he said.
"I do not reckon much on you this evening," replied the duke.
"Ah! monseigneur, the moment approaches which will change my past lifeinto a doubtful future, perhaps of shame, at least of remorse."
"Remorse!" replied the duke. "When we perform an action which we believeto be just, and commanded by conscience, we do not feel remorse. Do youdoubt the sanctity of your cause?"
"No, monseigneur, but it is easy for you to speak thus. You have theidea--I, the execution. You are the head, but I am the arm. Believe me,monseigneur," continued he in a hollow voice, and choking with emotion,"it is a terrible thing to kill a man who is before youdefenseless--smiling on his murderer. I thought myself courageous andstrong; but it must be thus with every conspirator who undertakes what Ihave done. In a moment of excitement, of pride, of enthusiasm, or ofhatred, we take a fatal vow; then there is a vast extent of time betweenus and our victim; but the oath taken, the fever is calmed, theenthusiasm cools, the hatred diminishes. Every day brings us nearer theend to which we are tending, and then we shudder when we feel what acrime we have undertaken. And yet inexorable time flows on; and at everyhour which strikes, we see our victim take another step, until at lengththe interval between us disappears, and we stand face to face. Believeme, monseigneur, the bravest tremble--for murder is always murder. Thenwe see that we are not the ministers of our consciences, but the slavesof our oaths. We set out with head erect, saying 'I am the chosen one:'we arrive with head bowed down, saying, 'I am accursed.'"
"There is yet time, monsieur."
"No, no; you well know, monseigneur, that fate urges me onward. I shallaccomplish my task, terrible though it be. My heart will shudder, but myhand will still be firm. Yes, I tell you, were it not for my friends,whose lives hang on the blow I am about to strike, were there no Helene,whom I should cover with mourning, if not with blood, oh, I would preferthe scaffold, even the scaffold, with all its shame, for that does notpunish, it absolves."
"Come," said the duke, "I see that though you tremble, you will act."
"Do not doubt it, monseigneur; pray for me, for in half an hour all willbe over."
The duke gave an involuntary start; however, approving Gaston'sdetermination, he once more mixed with the crowd.
Gaston found an open window with a balcony. He stepped out for a momentto cool the fever in his veins, but it was in vain; the flame whichconsumed him was not to be extinguished thus.
He heard one o'clock strike
.
"Now," he murmured, "the time is come, and I cannot draw back. My God,to thee I recommend my soul--Helene, adieu!"
Then, slowly but firmly, he went to the door, and pressing the button,it opened noiselessly before him.
A mist came before his eyes. He seemed in a new world. The music soundedlike a distant and charming melody. Around him breathed the sweetlyperfumed flowers, and alabaster lamps half hidden in luxuriant foliageshed a delicious twilight over the scene, while through the interlacingleaves of tropical plants could just be seen the leafless gloomy treesbeyond, and the snow covering the earth as with a winding sheet. Eventhe temperature was changed, and a sudden shiver passed through hisveins. The contrast of all this verdure, these magnificent andblossoming orange trees--these magnolias, splendid with the waxy blooms,with the gilded salons he had left, bewildered him. It seemed difficultto connect the thought of murder with this fair-smiling and enchantedscene. The soft gravel yielded to his tread, and plashing fountainsmurmured forth a plaintive and monotonous harmony.
Gaston was almost afraid to look for a human form. At length he glancedround.
Nothing! he went on.
At length, beneath a broad-leaved palm, surrounded by bloomingrhododendrons, he saw the black phantom seated on a bank of moss, hisback turned toward the side from whence he was approaching.
The blood rushed to Gaston's cheeks, his hand trembled, and he vainlysought for some support.
The domino did not move.
Gaston involuntarily drew back. All at once he forced his rebelliouslimbs to move on, and his trembling fingers to grasp the knife they hadalmost abandoned, and he stepped toward the regent, stifling a sob whichwas about to escape him.
At this moment the figure moved, and Gaston saw the golden bee, whichseemed like a burning gem before his eyes.
The domino turned toward Gaston, and as he did so, the young man's armgrew rigid, the foam rose to his lips, his teeth chattered, for a vaguesuspicion entered his breast.
Suddenly he uttered a piercing cry. The domino had risen, and wasunmasked--his face was that of the Duc d'Olivares.
Gaston, thunderstruck, remained livid and mute. The regent and the dukewere one and the same. The regent retained his calm majestic attitude;looked at the hand which held the knife, and the knife fell. Then,looking at his intended murderer with a smile at once sweet and sad,Gaston fell down before him like a tree cut by the ax.
Not a word had been spoken; nothing was heard but Gaston's broken sobs,and the water of the fountains plashing monotonously as it fell.
Une fille du régent. English Page 34