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Complete Works of Stanley J Weyman

Page 92

by Stanley J Weyman


  CHAPTER XVI. IN THE KING’S CHAMBER.

  M. de Rosny had risen from my side and started on his journey when I opened my eyes in the morning, and awoke to the memory of the task which had been so strangely imposed upon me; and which might, according as the events of the next fortnight shaped themselves, raise me to high position or put an end to my career. He had not forgotten to leave a souvenir behind him, for I found beside my pillow a handsome silver-mounted pistol, bearing the letter ‘R.’ and a coronet; nor had I more than discovered this instance of his kindness before Simon Fleix came in to tell me that M. de Rosny had left two hundred crowns in his hands for me.

  ‘Any message with it?’ I asked the lad.

  ‘Only that; he had taken a keepsake in exchange,’ Simon answered, opening the window as he spoke.

  In some wonder I began to search, but I could not discover that anything was missing until I came to put on my doublet, when I found that the knot of ribbon which mademoiselle had flung to me at my departure from Rosny was gone from the inside of the breast, where I had pinned it for safety with a long thorn. The discovery that M. de Rosny had taken this was displeasing to me on more than one account. In the first place, whether mademoiselle had merely wished to plague me (as was most probable) or not, I was loth to lose it, my day for ladies’ favours being past and gone; in the second, I misdoubted the motive which had led him to purloin it, and tormented myself with thinking of the different constructions he might put upon it, and the disparaging view of my trust worthiness which it might lead him to take. I blamed myself much for my carelessness in leaving it where a chance eye might rest upon it; and more when, questioning Simon further, I learned that M. de Rosny had added, while mounting at the door, ‘Tell your master, safe bind, safe find; and a careless lover makes a loose mistress.’

  I felt my cheek burn in a manner unbecoming my years while Simon with some touch of malice repeated this; and I made a vow on the spot, which I kept until I was tempted to break it, to have no more to do with such trifles. Meanwhile, I had to make the best of it; and brisking up, and bidding Simon, who seemed depressed by the baron’s departure, brisk up also, I set about my preparations for making such a figure at Court as became me: procuring a black velvet suit, and a cap and feather to match; item, a jewelled clasp to secure the feather; with a yard or two of lace and two changes of fine linen.

  Simon had grown sleek at Rosny, and losing something of the wildness which had marked him, presented in the dress M. de Rosny had given him a very creditable appearance; being also, I fancy, the only equerry in Blois who could write. A groom I engaged on the recommendation of M. de Rambouillet’s master of the horse; and I gave out also that I required a couple of valets. It needed only an hour under the barber’s hands and a set of new trappings for the Cid to enable me to make a fair show, such as might be taken to indicate a man of ten or twelve thousand livres a year.

  In this way I expended a hundred and fifteen crowns reflecting that this was a large sum, and that I must keep some money for play, I was glad to learn that in the crowded state of the city even men with high rank were putting up with poor lodging; I determined, therefore, to combine economy with a scheme which I had in my head by taking the rooms in which my mother died, with one room below them. This I did, hiring such furniture as I needed, which was not a great deal. To Simon Fleix, whose assistance in these matters was invaluable, I passed on much of M. de Rosny’s advice, bidding him ruffle it with the best in his station, and inciting him to labour for my advancement by promising to make his fortune whenever my own should be assured. I hoped, indeed, to derive no little advantage from the quickness of wit; which had attracted M. de Rosny’s attention; although I did not fail to take into account at the same time that the lad was wayward and fitful, prone at one time to depression, and at another to giddiness, and equally uncertain in either mood.

  M. de Rambouillet being unable to attend the LEVEE, had appointed me to wait upon him at six in the evening; at which hour I presented myself at his lodgings, attended by Simon Fleix. I found him in the midst of half a dozen gentlemen whose habit it was to attend him upon all public occasions; and these gallants, greeting me with the same curious and suspicious glances which I have seen hounds bestow on a strange dog introduced into their kennel, I was speedily made to feel that it is one thing to have business at Court, and another to be well received there.

  M. de Rambouillet, somewhat to my surprise, did nothing to remove this impression. On all ordinary occasions a man of stiff and haughty bearing, and thoroughly disliking, though he could not prevent, the intrusion of a third party into a transaction which promised an infinity of credit, he received me so coldly and with so much reserve as for the moment to dash my spirits and throw me back on myself.

  During the journey to the castle, however, which we performed on foot, attended by half a dozen armed servants bearing torches, I had time to recall M. de Rosny’s advice, and to bethink me of the intimacy which that great man had permitted me; with so much effect in the way of heartening me, that as we crossed the courtyard of the castle I advanced myself, not without some murmuring on the part of others, to Rambouillet’s elbow, considering that as I was attached to him by the king’s command, this was my proper place. I had no desire to quarrel, however, and persisted for some time in disregarding the nudges and muttered words which were exchanged round me, and even the efforts which were made as we mounted the stairs to oust me from my position. But a young gentleman, who showed himself very forward in these attempts, presently stumbling against me, I found it necessary to look at him.

  ‘Sir,’ he said, in a small and lisping voice, ‘you trod on my toe.’

  Though I had not done so, I begged his pardon very politely. But as his only acknowledgment of this courtesy consisted in an attempt to get his knee in front of mine — we were mounting very slowly, the stairs being cumbered with a multitude of servants, who stood on either hand — I did tread on his toe, with a force and directness which made him cry out.

  ‘What is the matter?’ Rambouillet asked, looking back hastily.

  ‘Nothing, M. le Marquis,’ I answered, pressing on steadfastly.

  ‘Sir,’ my young friend said again, in the same lisping voice, ‘you trod on my toe.’

  ‘I believe I did, sir,’ I answered.

  ‘You have not yet apologised,’ he murmured gently in my ear.

  ‘Nay, there you are wrong,’ I rejoined bluntly, ‘for it is always my habit to apologise first and tread afterwards.’

  He smiled as at a pleasant joke; and I am bound to say that his bearing was so admirable that if he had been my son I could have hugged him. ‘Good!’ he answered. ‘No doubt your sword is as sharp as your wits, sir. I see,’ he continued, glancing naively at my old scabbard — he was himself the very gem of a courtier, a slender youth with a pink-and-white complexion, a dark line for a moustache, and a pearl-drop in his ear— ‘it is longing to be out. Perhaps you will take a turn in the tennis-court to-morrow?’

  ‘With pleasure, sir,’ I answered, ‘if you have a father, or your elder brother is grown up.’

  What answer he would have made to this gibe I do not know, for at that moment we reached the door of the ante-chamber; and this being narrow, and a sentry in the grey uniform of the Swiss Guard compelling all to enter in single file, my young friend was forced to fall back, leaving me free to enter alone, and admire at my leisure a scene at once brilliant and sombre.

  The Court being in mourning for the Queen-mother, black predominated in the dresses of those present, and set off very finely the gleaming jewels and gemmed sword-hilts which were worn by the more important personages. The room was spacious and lofty, hung with arras, and lit by candles burning in silver sconces; it rang as we entered with the shrill screaming of a parrot, which was being teased by a group occupying the farther of the two hearths. Near them play was going on at one table, and primero at a second. In a corner were three or four ladies, in a circle about a red-faced, plebe
ian-looking man, who was playing at forfeits with one of their number; while the middle of the room seemed dominated by a middle-sized man with a peculiarly inflamed and passionate countenance, who, seated on a table, was inveighing against someone or something in the most violent terms, his language being interlarded with all kinds of strange and forcible oaths. Two or three gentlemen, who had the air of being his followers, stood about him, listening between submission and embarrassment; while beside the nearer fireplace, but at some distance from him, lounged a nobleman, very richly dressed, and wearing on his breast the Cross of the Holy Ghost; who seemed to be the object of his invective, but affecting to ignore it was engaged in conversation with a companion. A bystander muttering that Crillon had been drinking, I discovered with immense surprise that the declaimer on the table was that famous soldier; and I was still looking at him in wonder — for I had been accustomed all my life to associate courage with modesty — when, the door of the chamber suddenly opening, a general movement in that direction took place. Crillon, disregarding all precedency, sprang from his table and hurried first to the threshold. The Baron de Biron, on the other hand — for the gentleman by the fire was no other — waited, in apparent ignorance of the slight which was being put upon him, until M. de Rambouillet came up; then he went forward with him. Keeping close to my patron’s elbow, I entered the chamber immediately behind him.

  Crillon had already seized upon the king, and, when we entered, was stating his grievance is a voice not much lower than that which he had used outside. M. de Biron, seeing this, parted from the marquis, and, going aside with his former companion, sat down on a trunk against the wall; while Rambouillet, followed by myself and three or four gentlemen of his train, advanced to the king, who was standing near the alcove. His Majesty seeing him, and thankful, I think, for the excuse, waved Crillon off. ‘Tut, tut! You told me all that this morning,’ he said good-naturedly. ‘And here is Rambouillet, who has, I hope, something fresh to tell. Let him speak to me. Sanctus! Don’t look at me as if you would run me through, man. Go and quarrel with someone of your own size.’

  Crillon at this retired grumbling, and Henry, who had just risen from primero with the Duke of Nevers, nodded to Rambouillet. ‘Well, my friend, anything fresh?’ he cried. He was more at his ease and looked more cheerful than at our former interview; yet still care and suspicion lurked about his peevish mouth, and in the hollows under his gloomy eyes. ‘A new guest, a new face, or a new game — which have you brought?’

  ‘In a sense, sire, a new face,’ the marquis answered, bowing, and standing somewhat aside that I might have place.

  ‘Well, I cannot say much for the pretty baggage,’ quoth the king quickly. And amid a general titter he extended his hand to me. ‘I’ll be sworn, though,’ he continued, as I rose from my knee, ‘that you want something, my friend?’

  ‘Nay, sire,’ I answered, holding up my head boldly — for Crillon’s behaviour had been a further lesson to me— ‘I have, by your leave, the advantage. For your Majesty has supplied me with a new jest. I see many new faces round me, and I have need only of a new game. If your Majesty would be pleased to grant me—’

  ‘There! Said I not so?’ cried the king, raising his hand with a laugh. ‘He does want something. But he seems not undeserving. What does he pray, Rambouillet?’

  ‘A small command,’ M. de Rambouillet answered, readily playing his part. ‘And your Majesty would oblige me if you could grant the Sieur de Marsac’s petition. I will answer for it he is a man of experience.’

  ‘Chut! A small command?’ Henry ejaculated, sitting down suddenly in apparent ill-humour. ‘It is what everyone wants — when they do not want big ones. Still, I suppose,’ he continued, taking up a comfit-box, which lay beside him, and opening it, ‘if you do not get what you want for him you will sulk like the rest, my friend.’

  ‘Your Majesty has never had cause to complain of me,’ quoth the Marquis, forgetting his role, or too proud to play it.

  ‘Tut, tut, tut, tut! Take it, and trouble me no more,’ the king rejoined. ‘Will pay for twenty men do for him? Very well then. There, M. de Marsac,’ he continued, nodding at me and yawning, ‘your request is granted. You will find some other pretty baggages over there. Go to them. And now, Rambouillet,’ he went on, resuming his spirits as he turned to matters of more importance, ‘here is a new sweetmeat Zamet has sent me. I have made Zizi sick with it. Will you try it? It is flavoured with white mulberries.’

  Thus dismissed, I fell back; and stood for a moment, at a loss whither to turn, in the absence of either friends or acquaintances. His Majesty, it is true, had bidden me go to certain pretty baggages, meaning, apparently, five ladies who were seated at the farther end of the room, diverting themselves with as many cavaliers; but the compactness of this party, the beauty of the ladies, and the merry peals of laughter which proceeded from them, telling of a wit and vivacity beyond the ordinary, sapped the resolution which had borne me well hitherto. I felt that to attack such a phalanx, even with a king’s good will, was beyond the daring of a Crillon, and I looked round to see whether I could not amuse myself in some more modest fashion.

  The material was not lacking. Crillon, still mouthing out his anger, strode up and down in front of the trunk on which M. de Biron was seated; but the latter was, or affected to be, asleep. ‘Crillon is for ever going into rages now,’ a courtier beside me whispered.

  ‘Yes,’ his fellow answered, with a shrug of the shoulder; ‘it is a pity there is no one to tame him. But he has such a long reach, morbleu!’

  ‘It is not that so much as the fellow’s fury,’ the first speaker rejoined under his breath. ‘He fights like a mad thing; fencing is no use against him.’

  The other nodded. For a moment the wild idea of winning renown by taming M. de Crillon occurred to me as I stood alone in the middle of the floor; but it had not more than passed through my brain when I felt my elbow touched, and turned to find the young gentleman whom I had encountered on the stairs standing by my side.

  ‘Sir,’ he lisped, in the same small voice, ‘I think you trod on my toe a while ago?’

  I stared at him, wondering what he meant by this absurd repetition. ‘Well, sir,’ I answered drily, ‘and if I did?’

  ‘Perhaps,’ he said, stroking his chin with his jewelled fingers, ‘pending our meeting to-morrow, you would allow me to consider it as a kind of introduction?’

  ‘If it please you,’ I answered, bowing stiffly, and wondering what he would be at.

  ‘Thank you,’ he answered. ‘It does please me, under the circumstances; for there is a lady here who desires a word with you. I took up her challenge. Will you follow me?’

  He bowed, and turned in his languid fashion. I, turning too, saw, with secret dismay, that the five ladies, referred to above, were all now gazing at me, as expecting my approach; and this with such sportive glances as told only too certainly of some plot already in progress or some trick to be presently played me. Yet I could not see that I had any choice save to obey, and, following my leader with as much dignity as I could compass, I presently found myself bowing before the lady who sat nearest, and who seemed to be the leader of these nymphs.

  ‘Nay, sir,’ she said, eyeing me curiously, yet with a merry face, ‘I do not need you; I do not look so high!’

  Turning in confusion to the next, I was surprised to see before me the lady whose lodging I had invaded in my search for Mademoiselle de la Vire — she, I mean, who, having picked up the velvet; knot, had dropped it so providentially where Simon Fleix found it. She looked at me blushing and laughing, and the young gentleman, who had done her errand, presenting me by name, she asked me, while the others listened, whether I had found my mistress.

  Before I could answer, the lady to whom I had first addressed myself interposed. ‘Stop, sir!’ she cried. What is this — a tale, a jest, a game, or a forfeit?’

  ‘An adventure, madam,’ I answered, bowing low.

  ‘Of gallantry, I’ll be bound,’
she exclaimed. ‘Fie, Madame de Bruhl, and you but six months married!’

  Madame de Bruhl protested, laughing, that she had no more to do with it than Mercury. ‘At the worst,’ she said, ‘I carried the POULETS! But I can assure you, duchess, this gentleman should be able to tell us a very fine story, if he would.’

  The duchess and all the other ladies clapping their hands at this, and crying out that the story must and should be told, I found myself in a prodigious quandary; and one wherein my wits derived as little assistance as possible from the bright eyes and saucy looks which environed me. Moreover, the commotion attracting other listeners, I found my position, while I tried to extricate myself, growing each moment worse, so that I began to fear that as I had little imagination I should perforce have to tell the truth. The mere thought of this threw me into a cold perspiration, lest I should let slip something of consequence, and prove myself unworthy of the trust which M. de Rosny had reposed in me.

  At the moment when, despairing of extricating myself, I was stooping over Madame de Bruhl begging her to assist me, I heard, amid the babel of laughter and raillery which surrounded me — certain of the courtiers having already formed hands in a circle and sworn I should not depart without satisfying the ladies — a voice which struck a chord in my memory. I turned to see who the speaker was, and encountered no other than M. de Bruhl himself; who, with a flushed and angry face, was listening to the explanation which a friend was pouring into his ear. Standing at the moment with my knee on Madame de Bruhl’s stool, and remembering very well the meeting on the stairs, I conceived in a flash that the man was jealous; but whether he had yet heard my name, or had any clew to link me with the person who had rescued Mademoiselle de la Vire from his clutches, I could not tell. Nevertheless his presence led my thoughts into a new channel. The determination to punish him began to take form in my mind, and very quickly I regained my composure. Still I was for giving him one chance. Accordingly I stooped once more to Madame de Bruhl’s ear, and begged her to spare me the embarrassment of telling my tale. But then, finding her pitiless, as I expected, and the rest of the company growing more and more insistent, I hardened my heart to go through with the fantastic notion which had occurred to me.

 

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