CHAPTER XXXI.
THE FIRST QUARREL.
La Valliere entered the queen-mother's apartments without in the leastsuspecting that a serious plot was being concerted against her. Shethought it was for something connected with her duties, and never hadthe queen-mother been unkind to her when such was the case. Besides, notbeing immediately under the control or direction of Anne of Austria, shecould only have an official connection with her, to which her owngentleness of disposition, and the rank of the august princess, made heryield on every occasion with the best possible grace. She thereforeadvanced toward the queen-mother with that soft and gentle smile which,constituted her principal charm, and as she did not approachsufficiently close, Anne of Austria signed to her to come nearer. Madamethen entered the room, and with a perfectly calm air took her seatbeside her mother-in-law, and continued the work which Maria-Theresa hadbegun. When La Valliere, instead of the directions which she expected toreceive immediately on entering the room, perceived these preparations,she looked with curiosity, if not with uneasiness, at the twoprincesses. Anne seemed full of thought, while Madame maintained anaffectation of indifference which would have alarmed a less timid personeven than Louise.
"Mademoiselle," said the queen-mother suddenly, without attempting tomoderate or disguise her Spanish accent, which she never failed to doexcept when she was angry, "come closer; we were talking of you, asevery one else seems to be doing."
"Of me!" exclaimed La Valliere, turning pale.
"Do you pretend to be ignorant of it; are you not aware of the duelbetween M. de Guiche and M. de Wardes?"
"Oh, madame! I heard of it yesterday," said La Valliere, clasping herhands together.
"And did you not foresee this quarrel?"
"Why should I, madame?"
"Because two men never fight without a motive, and because you must beaware of the motive which awakened the animosity of the two inquestion."
"I am perfectly ignorant of it, madame."
"A persevering denial is a very common-place mode of defense, and you,who have great pretensions to be witty and clever, ought to avoidcommon-places. What else have you to say?"
"Oh! madame, your majesty terrifies me with your cold severity ofmanner; but I do not understand how I can have incurred yourdispleasure, or in what respect people can occupy themselves about me."
"Then I will tell you. M. de Guiche has been obliged to undertake yourdefense."
"My defense?"
"Yes. He is a gallant knight, and beautiful adventuresses like to seebrave knights couch their lances in their honor. But, for my part, Ihate fields of battle, and more than all, do I hate adventures,and--take my remark as you please."
La Valliere sank at the queen's feet, who turned her back upon her. Shestretched out her hands toward Madame, who laughed in her face. Afeeling of pride made her rise to her feet.
"I have begged your majesty to tell me what is the crime I am accusedof--I can claim this at your majesty's hands; and I observe that I amcondemned before I am even permitted to justify myself."
"Eh! indeed," cried Anne of Austria, "listen to her beautiful phrases,Madame, and to her fine sentiments; she is an inexhaustible well oftenderness and of heroic expressions. One can easily see, young lady,that we have cultivated our mind in the society of crowned heads."
La Valliere felt struck to the heart; she became, not paler, but aswhite as a lily, and all her strength forsook her.
"I wished to inform you," interrupted the queen disdainfully, "that ifyou continue to nourish such feelings, you will humiliate us other womento such a degree that we shall be ashamed of appearing before you.Become simple in your manners. By-the-by, I am informed that you areaffianced; is it the case?"
La Valliere pressed her hand over her heart, which was wrung with afresh pang.
"Answer when you are spoken to!"
"Yes, madame."
"To a gentleman?"
"Yes, madame."
"His name?"
"The Vicomte de Bragelonne."
"Are you aware that it is an exceedingly fortunate circumstance for you,mademoiselle, that such is the case? and without fortune or position, asyou are, or without any very great personal advantages, you ought tobless Heaven for having procured you such a future as seems to be instore for you."
La Valliere did not reply. "Where is this Vicomte de Bragelonne?"pursued the queen.
"In England," said Madame, "where the report of this young lady'ssuccess will not fail to reach him."
"Oh, Heaven!" murmured La Valliere, in despair.
"Very well, mademoiselle!" said Anne of Austria, "we will get this younggentleman to return, and send you away somewhere with him. If you are ofa different opinion--for girls have strange views and fancies at times,trust to me, I will put you in a proper path again. I have done as muchfor girls who are not so good as you are, perhaps."
La Valliere ceased to hear the queen, who pitilessly added, "I will sendyou somewhere by yourself, where you will be able to procure a littleserious reflection. Reflection calms the ardor of the blood, andswallows up all the illusions of youth. I suppose you have understoodwhat I have been saying?"
"Madame, madame!"
"Not a word!"
"I am innocent of everything your majesty can suppose. Oh! madame! youare a witness of my despair. I love, I respect your majesty so much!"
"It would be far better not to respect me at all," said the queen, witha chilling irony of manner. "It would be far better if you were notinnocent. Do you presume to suppose that I should be satisfied simply toleave you unpunished if you had committed the fault?"
"Oh, madame! you are killing me."
"No acting, if you please, or I will undertake the _denouement_ of thecomedy; leave the room; return to your own apartment, and I trust mylesson may be of service to you."
"Madame!" said La Valliere to the Duchesse d'Orleans, whose hands sheseized in her own, "do you, who are so good, intercede for me."
"I!" replied the latter, with an insulting joy, "I--good!--Ah,mademoiselle, you think nothing of the kind;" and with a rude, hastygesture, she repulsed the young girl's hand.
La Valliere, instead of giving way, as from her extreme pallor and fromher tears the two princesses might possibly have expected, suddenlyresumed her calm and dignified air; she bowed profoundly, and left theroom.
"Well!" said Anne of Austria to madame, "do you think she will beginagain?"
"I always suspect those gentle and patient characters," replied Madame."Nothing is more full of courage than a patient heart, nothing is moreself-reliant than a gentle spirit."
"I feel I may almost venture to assure you she will think twice beforeshe looks at the god Mars again."
"So long as she does not obtain the protection of his buckler I do notcare," retorted Madame.
A proud, defiant look of the queen-mother was the reply to thisobjection, which was by no means deficient in _finesse_; and both ofthem, almost sure of their victory, went to look for Maria-Theresa, whohad been engaged, while awaiting their arrival, in endeavoring todisguise her impatience.
It was about half-past six in the evening, and the king had justpartaken of some refreshment. He lost no time: but no sooner was therepast finished, and business matters settled, than he took Saint-Aignanby the arm, and desired him to lead him to La Valliere's apartments. Thecourtier uttered a loud exclamation.
"Well, what is that for? It is a habit you will have to adopt, and inorder to adopt a habit, you must begin by something or another atfirst."
"Oh, sire!" said Saint-Aignan, "it is hardly possible, for every one canbe seen entering or leaving those apartments. If, however, some pretextor other were made use of--if your majesty, for instance, would waituntil Madame were in her own apartments--"
"No pretexts; no delays. I have had enough of these impediments andthese mysteries; I cannot perceive in what respect the king of Francedishonors himself in conversing with an amiable and clever girl. Evil beto him who evil thinks."
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"Will your majesty forgive an excess of zeal on my part?"
"Speak freely."
"And the queen?"
"True, true; I always wish the most entire respect to be shown to hermajesty. Well, then, this evening only will I pay Mademoiselle de laValliere a visit, and after to-day I will make use of any pretext youlike. To-morrow we will devise all sorts of means; to-night I have notthe time."
Saint-Aignan did not reply; he descended the steps, preceding the king,and crossed the different courtyards with a feeling of shame, which thedistinguished honor of accompanying the king did not remove. The reasonwas, that Saint-Aignan wished to stand well with Madame, as well as thetwo queens; and also, that he did not, on the other hand, wish todisplease Mademoiselle de la Valliere; and in order to carry out so manypromising affairs, it was difficult to avoid jostling against someobstacle or other. Besides, the windows of the young queen's rooms,those of the queen-mother's, and of Madame herself, looked out upon thecourtyard of the maids of honor. To be seen, therefore, accompanying theking, would be effectually to quarrel with three great and influentialprincesses--with three women whose authority was unbounded--for thepurpose of supporting the ephemeral credit of a mistress. The unhappySaint-Aignan, who had not displayed a very great amount of courage intaking La Valliere's part in the park of Fontainebleau, did not feelhimself any braver in the broad daylight, and found a thousand defectsin the poor girl which he was most eager to communicate to the king. Buthis trial soon finished--the courtyards were crossed; not a curtain wasdrawn aside, nor a window opened. The king walked hastily, because ofhis impatience, and then also because of the long legs of Saint-Aignan,who preceded him. At the door, however, Saint-Aignan wished to retire,but the king desired him to remain: this was a delicate consideration onthe king's part, which the courtier could very well have dispensed with.He had to follow Louis into La Valliere's apartment. As soon as the kingarrived, the young girl dried her tears, but did it so precipitatelythat the king perceived it. He questioned her most anxiously andtenderly, and pressed her to tell him the cause of her emotion.
"I have nothing the matter with me, sire," she said.
"And yet you were weeping."
"Oh, no, indeed, sire."
"Look, Saint-Aignan, and tell me if I am mistaken."
Saint-Aignan ought to have answered, but he was greatly embarrassed.
"At all events, your eyes are red, mademoiselle," said the king.
"The dust of the road merely, sire."
"No, no; you no longer possess that air of supreme contentment whichrenders you so beautiful and so attractive. You do not look at me. Whyavoid my gaze?" he said, as she turned aside her head. "In Heaven'sname, what is the matter?" he inquired, beginning to lose all commandover himself.
"Nothing at all, sire; and I am perfectly ready to assure your majestythat my mind is as free from anxiety as you could possibly wish."
"Your mind at ease, when I see you are embarrassed at the slightestthing. Has any one wounded or annoyed you?"
"No, no, sire."
"I insist upon knowing if such really be the case," said the youngprince, his eyes sparkling.
"No one, sire, no one has in any way offended me."
"In that case, do resume your gentle air of gayety, or that sweetmelancholy look which I so loved in you this morning; for pity's sake,do so."
"Yes, sire, yes."
The king struck the ground impatiently with his foot, saying, "Such achange is positively inexplicable." And he looked at Saint-Aignan, whohad also remarked La Valliere's heavy languor of manner, as well as theking's impatience.
It was utterly useless for the king to entreat, and as useless for himto try his utmost to overcome her positiveness, which was but tooapparent, and did not in reality exist; the poor girl was completelyoverwhelmed--the aspect of death itself could not have awakened her fromher torpor. The king saw in her repeated negative replies a mystery fullof unkindness; he began to look all round the apartment with asuspicious air. There happened to be in La Valliere's room a miniatureof Athos. The king remarked this portrait, which bore a considerableresemblance to Bragelonne, for it had been taken when the comte wasquite a young man. He looked at it with a threatening air. La Valliere,in her depressed state of mind, and very far indeed from thinking ofthis portrait, could not conjecture the king's preoccupation. And yetthe king's mind was occupied with a terrible remembrance, which had morethan once taken possession of his mind, but which he had always drivenaway. He recalled the intimacy which had existed between the two youngpeople from their birth; the engagement which had followed; and thatAthos had himself come to solicit La Valliere's hand for Raoul. Hetherefore could not but suppose that, on her return to Paris, LaValliere had found news from London awaiting her, and that this news hadcounterbalanced the influence which he had been enabled to exert overher. He immediately felt himself stung, as it were, by feelings of thewildest jealousy; and he again questioned her, with increasedbitterness. La Valliere could not reply, unless she were to acknowledgeeverything, which would be to accuse the queen, and Madame also; and theconsequence would be, that she would have to enter upon an open warfarewith these two great and powerful princesses. She thought within herselfthat as she made no attempt to conceal from the king what was passing inher own mind, the king ought to be able to read in her heart, in spiteof her silence; and that, if he really loved her, he would haveunderstood and guessed everything. What was sympathy, then, if it werenot that divine flame which possesses the property of enlightening theheart, and of saving lovers the necessity of an expression of theirthoughts and feelings. She maintained her silence, therefore, satisfyingherself with sighing, weeping, and concealing her face in her hands.These sighs and tears, which had at first distressed, and thenterrified, Louis XIV., now irritated him. He could not bear anyopposition--not the opposition which tears and sighs exhibited, any morethan opposition of any other kind. His remarks, therefore, becamebitter, urgent, and openly aggressive in their nature. This was a freshcause of distress for the poor girl. From that very circumstance,therefore, which she regarded as an injustice on her lover's part, shedrew sufficient courage to bear, not only her other troubles, but eventhis one also.
The king next began to accuse her in direct terms. La Valliere did noteven attempt to defend herself; she endured all his accusations withoutaccording any other reply than that of shaking her head; without makingany other remark than that which escapes every heart in deep distress,by a prayerful appeal to Heaven for help. But this ejaculation, insteadof calming the king's displeasure, rather increased it. He, moreover,saw himself seconded by Saint-Aignan, for Saint-Aignan, as we haveobserved, having seen the storm increasing, and not knowing the extentof the regard of which Louis XIV. was capable, felt, by anticipation,all the collected wrath of the three princesses, and the near approachof poor La Valliere's downfall; and he was not true knight enough toresist the fear that he himself might possibly be dragged down in theimpending ruin. Saint-Aignan did not reply to the king's questionsexcept by short, dry remarks, pronounced half-aloud; and by abruptgestures, whose object was to make things worse, and bring about amisunderstanding, the result of which would be to free him from theannoyance of having to cross the courtyards in broad open day, in orderto follow his illustrious companion to La Valliere's apartments. In themeantime the king's anger momentarily increased; he made two or threesteps toward the door, as if to leave the room, but then returned; theyoung girl did not, however, raise her head, although the sound of hisfootsteps might have warned her that her lover was leaving her. He drewhimself up, for a moment, before her, with his arms crossed.
"For the last time, mademoiselle," he said, "will you speak? Will youassign a reason for this change, for this fickleness, for this caprice?"
"What can I say?" murmured La Valliere. "Do you not see, sire, that I amcompletely overwhelmed at this moment; that I have no power of will, orthought, or speech?"
"Is it so difficult, then, to speak the truth? You would ha
ve told methe truth in fewer words than those in which you have just now expressedyourself."
"But the truth about what, sire?"
"About everything."
La Valliere was just on the point of revealing the whole truth to theking; her arms made a sudden movement as if they were about to open, buther lips remained silent, and her arms again fell listlessly by herside. The poor girl had not yet endured sufficient unhappiness to riskthe necessary revelation. "I know nothing," she stammered out.
"Oh!" exclaimed the king, "this is no longer mere coquetry, or caprice,it is treason."
And this time nothing could restrain him; the impulses of his heart werenot sufficient to induce him to turn back, and he darted out of the roomwith a gesture full of despair. Saint-Aignan followed him, wishing fornothing better than to leave the place.
Louis XIV. did not pause until he reached the staircase, and graspingthe balustrade, said: "You see how shamefully I have been duped."
"How, sire?" inquired the favorite.
"Guiche fought on the Vicomte de Bragelonne's account, and thisBragelonne ... oh! Saint-Aignan, she still loves him. I vow to you,Saint-Aignan, that, if in three day's hence, there were to remain but anatom of affection for her in my heart, I should die from very shame."And the king resumed his way to his own apartments.
"I assured your majesty how it would be," murmured Saint-Aignan,continuing to follow the king, and timidly glancing up at the differentwindows. Unfortunately their return was different to what theirdeparture had been. A curtain was stealthily drawn aside; Madame wasbehind it. She had seen the king leave the apartments of the maids ofhonor, and as soon as she observed that his majesty had passed, she lefther own apartments with hurried steps, and ran up the staircase, whichled to the room the king had just left.
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