For flight was the last thing I had in my mind. I had ridden this ride with a clear perception that the one thing I needed was a footing at Court. By the special kindness of Providence I had now gained this; and I was not the man to resign it because it proved to be scanty and perilous. It was something that I had spoken to the great Vicomte face to face and not been consumed, that I had given him look for look and still survived, that I had put in practice Crillon"s lessons and come to no harm.
Nor was this all. I had never in the worst times blamed the King of Navarre for his denial of me. I had been foolish, indeed, seeing that it was in the bargain, had I done so; nor had I ever doubted his good-will or his readiness to reward me should occasion arise. Now, I flattered myself, I had given him that which he needed, and had hitherto lacked--an excuse, I mean, for interference in my behalf.
Whether I was right or wrong in this notion I was soon to learn, for at this moment Henry"s cavalcade, which had left me a hundred paces behind, came to a stop, and while some of the number waved to me to come on, one spurred back to summon me to the king. I hastened to obey the order as fast as I could, but I saw on approaching that though all was at a standstill till I came up, neither the King of Navarre nor M.
de Turenne was thinking princ.i.p.ally of me. Every face, from Henry"s to that of his least important courtier, wore an air of grave preoccupation; which I had no difficulty in ascribing to the doubt present in every mind, and outweighing every interest, whether the King of France was dead, or dying, or merely wounded.
"Quick, sir!" Henry said with impatience, as soon as I came within hearing. "Do not detain me with your affairs longer than is necessary.
M. de Turenne presses me to carry into effect the order I gave yesterday. But as you have placed yourself in jeopardy on my account I feel that something is due to you. You will be good enough, therefore, to present yourself at once at M. la Varenne"s lodging, and give me your parole to remain there without stirring abroad until your affair is concluded."
Aware that I owed this respite, which at once secured my present safety and promised well for the future, to the great event that, even in M. de Turenne"s mind, had overshadowed all others, I bowed in silence. Henry, however, was not content with this. "Come, sir," he said sharply, and with every appearance of anger, "do you agree to that?"
I replied humbly that I thanked him for his clemency.
"There is no need of thanks," he replied coldly. "What I have done is without prejudice to M. de Turenne"s complaint. He must have justice."
I bowed again, and in a moment the troop were gone at a gallop towards Meudon, whence, as I afterwards learned, the King of Navarre, attended by a select body of five-and-twenty hors.e.m.e.n, wearing private arms, rode on at full speed to St. Cloud to present himself at His Majesty"s bedside. A groom who had caught the Cid, which had escaped into the town with no other injury than a slight wound in the shoulder, by-and-by met me with the horse; and in this way I was enabled to render myself with some decency at Varenne"s lodging, a small house at the foot of the hill, not far from the Castle-gate.
Here I found myself under no greater constraint than that which my own parole laid upon me; and my room having the conveniency of a window looking upon the public street, I was enabled from hour to hour to comprehend and enter into the various alarms and surprises which made that day remarkable. The manifold reports which flew from mouth to mouth on the occasion, as well as the overmastering excitement which seized all, are so well remembered, however, that I forbear to dwell upon them, though they served to distract my mind from my own position. Suffice it that at one moment we heard that His Majesty was dead, at another that the wound was skin deep, and again that we might expect him at Meudon before sunset. The rumour that the d.u.c.h.ess de Montpensier had taken poison was no sooner believed than we were asked to listen to the guns of Paris firing _feux de joie_ in honour of the King"s death.
The streets were so closely packed with persons telling and hearing these tales that I seemed from my window to be looking on a fair. Nor was all my amus.e.m.e.nt without doors; for a number of the gentlemen of the Court, hearing that I had been at St. Cloud in the morning, and in the very chamber, a thing which made me for the moment the most desirable companion in the world, remembered on a sudden that they had a slight acquaintance with me, and honoured me by calling upon me and sitting a great part of the day with me. From which circ.u.mstance I confess I derived as much hope as they diversion; knowing that courtiers are the best weather-prophets in the world, who hate nothing so much as to be discovered in the company of those on whom the sun does not shine.
The return of the King of Navarre, which happened about the middle of the afternoon, while it dissipated the fears of some and dashed the hopes of others, put an end to this state of uncertainty by confirming, to the surprise of many, that His Majesty was in no danger. We learned with varying emotions that the first appearances, which had deceived, not myself only, but experienced leeches, had been themselves belied by subsequent conditions; and that, in a word, Paris had as much to fear, and loyal men as much to hope, as before this wicked and audacious attempt.
I had no more than stomached this surprising information, which was less welcome to me, I confess, than it should have been, when the arrival of M. d"Agen, who greeted me with the affection which he never failed to show me, distracted my thoughts for a time. Immediately on learning where I was and the strange adventures which had befallen me he had ridden off; stopping only once, when he had nearly reached me, for the purpose of waiting on Madame de Bruhl. I asked him how she had received him.
"Like herself," he replied with an ingenuous blush. "More kindly than I had a right to expect, if not as warmly as I had the courage to hope."
"That will come with time," I said, laughing. "And Mademoiselle de la Vire?"
"I did not see her," he answered, "but I heard she was well. And a hundred fathoms deeper in love," he added, eyeing me roguishly, "than when I saw her last."
It was my turn to colour now, and I did so, feeling all the pleasure and delight such a statement was calculated to afford me. Picturing mademoiselle as I had seen her last, leaning from her horse with love written so plainly on her weeping face that all who ran might read, I sank into so delicious a reverie that M. la Varenne, entering suddenly, surprised us both before another word pa.s.sed on either side.
His look and tone were as abrupt as it was in his nature, which was soft and compliant, to make them. "M. de Marsac," he said, "I am sorry to put any constraint upon you, but I am directed to forbid you to your friends. And I must request this gentleman to withdraw."
"But all day my friends have come in and out," I said with surprise.
"Is this a new order?"
"A written order, which reached me no farther back than two minutes ago," he answered plainly. "I am also directed to remove you to a room at the back of the house, that you may not overlook the street."
"But my parole was taken," I cried, with a natural feeling of indignation.
He shrugged his shoulders. "I am sorry to say that I have nothing to do with that," he answered. "I can only obey orders. I must ask this gentleman, therefore, to withdraw."
Of course M. d"Agen had no option but to leave me; which he did, I could see, notwithstanding his easy and confident expressions, with a good deal of mistrust and apprehension. When he was gone, La Varenne lost no time in carrying out the remainder of his orders. As a consequence I found myself confined to a small and gloomy apartment which looked, at a distance of three paces, upon the smooth face of the rock on which the Castle stood. This change, from a window which commanded all the life of the town, and intercepted every breath of popular fancy, to a closet whither no sounds penetrated, and where the very transition from noon to evening scarcely made itself known, could not fail to depress my spirits sensibly; the more as I took it to be significant of a change in my fortunes fully as grave. Reflecting that I must now appear to the King of Navarre in the light of a bearer of false tidings, I a.s.sociated the order to confine me more closely with his return from St. Cloud; and comprehending that M. de Turenne was once more at liberty to attend to my affairs, I began to look about me with forebodings which were none the less painful because the parole I had given debarred me from any attempt to escape.
Sleep and habit enabled me, nevertheless, to pa.s.s the night in comfort. Very early in the morning a great firing of guns, which made itself heard even in my quarters, led me to suppose that Paris had surrendered; but the servant who brought me my breakfast declined in a surly fashion to give me any information. In the end, I spent the whole day alone, my thoughts divided between my mistress and my own prospects, which seemed to grow more and more gloomy as the hours succeeded one another. No one came near me, no step broke the silence of the house; and for a while I thought my guardians had forgotten even that I needed food. This omission, it is true, was made good about sunset, but still M. la Varenne did not appear, the servant seemed to be dumb, and I heard no sounds in the house.
I had finished my meal an hour or more, and the room was growing dark, when the silence was at last broken by quick steps pa.s.sing along the entrance. They paused, and seemed to hesitate at the foot of the stairs, but the next moment they came on again, and stopped at my door. I rose from my seat on hearing the key turned in the lock, and my astonishment may be conceived when I saw no other than M. de Turenne enter, and close the door behind him.
He saluted me in a haughty manner as he advanced to the table, raising his cap for an instant and then replacing it. This done he stood looking at me, and I at him, in a silence which on my side was the result of pure astonishment; on his, of contempt and a kind of wonder.
The evening light, which was fast failing, lent a sombre whiteness to his face, causing it to stand out from the shadows behind him in a way which was not without its influence on me.
"Well! "he said at last, speaking slowly and with unimaginable insolence, "I am here to look at you!"
I felt my anger rise, and gave him back look for look. "At your will,"
I said, shrugging my shoulders.
"And to solve a question," he continued in the same tone. "To learn whether the man who was mad enough to insult and defy _me_ was the old penniless dullard some called him, or the dare-devil others painted him."
"You are satisfied now?" I said.
He eyed me for a moment closely; then with sudden heat he cried, "Curse me if I am! Nor whether I have to do with a man very deep or very shallow, a fool or a knave!"
"You may say what you please to a prisoner," I retorted coldly.
"Turenne commonly does--to whom he pleases!" he answered. The next moment he made me start by saying, as he drew out a comfit-box and opened it, "I am just from the little fool you have bewitched. If she were in my power I would have her whipped and put on bread and water till she came to her senses. As she is not, I must take another way.
Have you any idea, may I ask," he continued in his cynical tone, "what is going to become of you, M. de Marsac?"
I replied, my heart inexpressibly lightened by what he had said of mademoiselle, that I placed the fullest confidence in the justice of the King of Navarre.
He repeated the name in a tone I did not understand.
"Yes, sir, the King of Navarre," I answered firmly.
"Well, I daresay you have good reason to do so," he rejoined with a sneer. "Unless I am mistaken he knew a little more of this affair than he acknowledges."
"Indeed? The King of Navarre?" I said, staring stolidly at him.
"Yes, indeed, indeed, the King of Navarre!" he retorted, mimicking me, with a nearer approach to anger than I had yet witnessed in him. "But let him be a moment, sirrah!" he continued, "and do you listen to me.
Or first look at that. Seeing is believing."
He drew out as he spoke a paper, or, to speak more correctly, a parchment, which he thrust with a kind of savage scorn into my hand.
Repressing for the moment the surprise I felt, I took it to the window, and reading it with difficulty, found it to be a royal patent drawn, as far as I could judge, in due form, and appointing some person unknown--for the name was left blank--to the post of Lieutenant-Governor of the Armagnac, with a salary of twelve thousand livres a year!
"Well, sir?" he said impatiently.
"Well?" I answered mechanically. For my brain reeled; the exhibition of such a paper in such a way raised extraordinary thoughts in my mind.
"Can you read it?" he asked.
"Certainly," I answered, telling myself that he would fain play a trick on me.
"Very well," he replied, "then listen. I am going to condescend; to make you an offer, M. de Marsac. I will procure you your freedom, and fill up the blank, which you see there, with your name--upon one condition."
I stared at him with all the astonishment it was natural for me to feel in the face of such a proposition, "You will confer this office on me?" I muttered incredulously.
"The king having placed it at my disposal," he answered, "I will. But first let me remind you," he went on proudly, "that the affair has another side. On the one hand I offer you such employment, M. de Marsac, as should satisfy your highest ambition. On the other, I warn you that my power to avenge myself is no less to-day than it was yesterday; and that if I condescend to buy you, it is because that course commends itself to me for reasons, not because it is the only one open."