Now and again as I rode by her window I had glanced into the coach; but never was there any change in her position, and it was only when we halted at the post-house that her pent-up fury broke out into an angry question, to relapse at once into an air of frozen indifference.
The escort had dismounted, and stood with their horses in two dark groups in the front and in the rear of the coach. There was hurry and stir in the post-house at the unexpected coming of the great d.u.c.h.ess; and De Lorgnac and I, having given our horses to a trooper to hold, paced slowly together to and fro, now and again exchanging a word.
Suddenly, almost in answer to the thoughts that moved me, he stopped, and putting a hand to my shoulder, said:
"Look you, Orrain! The game is not yet won. She has a last card."
"I feel that. It is what I think."
"If she plays on the King"s madness for her she may win all, unless----" And he put down his hand, and hesitated.
"Unless what?"
"The gossip is true that the King bitterly regrets the infamous grant he made to her, and would give his right hand to escape from his word."
"Le Brusquet is certain of it. He was there when the grant was made, if you remember."
"In that case there is but one course open to her, and she will take it. She will, as if of her own accord, surrender the grant, after getting the pardon of Mademoiselle de Paradis. Thus, though balked at present, she will retain her hold on the King, and wait for another day."
"I care not what she does so long as mademoiselle is saved."
"The horses are ready, messieurs." It was Pierrebon, whom I had ordered to accompany me, who broke in upon our talk, and five minutes later we were once more upon our way, the still figure within the coach immovable and silent as ever.
All through the night we rode, and at last, when the moon sank and the darkness that precedes the dawn came, we clattered through the narrow streets of Bois-le-Roi, and entered the forest of Fontainebleau.
In a moment the clear, cloudless sky, in which a stray star or so yet lingered, as if awaiting the day, vanished from our view, and we plunged into an endless avenue of mighty trees, the overarching branches forming an arcade above us. As we swept into the shadow the lamps of the coach threw the gnarled trunks into fantastic shapes, that seemed to live and move. It was as if we raced between two rows of grisly phantoms, things of air, that vainly reached forth long, writhing arms to stay us, only to sink back and dissolve into the gloom as we sped past.
After a while we came upon more open ground, now and again pa.s.sing the fires of a beater"s camp, and then, on rounding a turn, we saw rising before us the vast irregular outlines of the Chateau. Ten minutes later the coach swung through the gates, and, white with foam and dust, the horses were pulled up before the Horseshoe Stair. It was not yet dawn; but lights were glittering everywhere, and the Chateau was already astir, for the King never spared himself, or others, at the chase. Indeed, that and a tourney were the only two things which ever moved his dull spirit to action. Our coming was a complete surprise; but the broad steps of the stairway were already crowded, and soon a murmuring, curious throng had gathered about the coach.
I myself opened the door, and as I offered La Valentinois my arm to a.s.sist her to alight I said in a low voice:
"We cannot give you much time, madame. It must be before the King starts."
Her eyes flashed defiantly, but she made no answer, and, declining my proffered aid, stepped out lightly. She stood for a moment on the lowest step of the stair, a tall, hooded figure, the lights of the torches playing on her, and all bowing respectfully; and then De Lorgnac called out in a loud voice:
"Madame would see his Majesty the King!"
Almost on his words a lean shadow came running down the steps towards us. By the lights of the torches flickering through the grey of the morning I saw it was Simon of Orrain himself. La Valentinois saw him too, and stood motionless until he came up to her. Simon"s eyes blazed with a hundred unasked questions, but he merely said:
"His Majesty has just heard of your return, madame, and is overjoyed.
It will be a great hunt to-day. Permit me!" And then he caught sight of me, and started back, his half-outstretched arm falling to his side, his lips curled back in a snarl.
"You keep madame waiting, Monsieur le Vidame," I said, "and her business is of vital import."
He was about to answer when La Valentinois placed her hand on his arm, and muttering something under his breath, Simon turned and led her up the stairway, all bowing as though she were the Queen. Whilst the two went up, they began to talk in low, hurried tones, and twice Simon looked back at me, the hate of a devil in his glance. Most of those present followed them; but there still remained many who crowded around us buzzing with questions; but we put them aside, saying we were weary, and needed rest.
As the red dawn came I found myself seated on a wooden bench near my horse"s stable wondering, fearing, and hoping. The escort had been dismissed by De Lorgnac, with orders to return to Paris under M. de Tolendal, as soon as the horses were rested, and De Lorgnac himself had gone off somewhere. So two hours must have pa.s.sed, and it seemed to me that the movement in the courtyards and in the Chateau grew less and less. Presently half a dozen huntsmen, leading their hounds, pa.s.sed close to me, talking in loud and aggrieved tones.
"_Mille diables_!" exclaimed one. "To think it is all off!"
"Never have I known the like!" said another.
"What has happened, my friends?" I asked; and the first speaker replied:
"The hunt is put off, monsieur. Put off, after we had marked down the largest and fiercest boar in France! As high as that!" And he held his palm out almost on a level with his breast.
"Ay; and as grey as my beard," put in another, a little, shrivelled old man. "He has the devil on his side, that boar. Five times has he escaped. Three of my best hounds has he slain. For a whole week have I tracked him through the Dormoir, and now that we have him safe in his lair in the Gorges d"Apremont--the King does not hunt! He has the devil on his side, I say!"
"Way! Way for Monsieur le Vidame"s horse!" called out a strident voice, and a groom came up, leading a big white horse ready saddled.
The huntsmen moved aside, and the groom led the horse towards the Chateau; but ere he had gone ten steps Simon himself appeared hastening towards him.
Simon was still in his hunting suit of close-fitting dark green, a short cloak thrown over his shoulder, and long boots that reached to his thighs. His sword was slung scabbardless to his side, and he wore a baret on his head, with a single c.o.c.k"s feather in it, underneath which his pale face looked like that of a corpse.
As he came forward hastily towards his horse, his shoulders bent, and his wolf"s eyes fixed before him, there was that in his air which was ominous of danger, and, springing to my feet, I drew my sword and stepped towards him. He saw me too, and came up like a truculent dog.
We both reached the horse almost at the same time, and I fully expected him to draw on me at once; but stopping, he said:
"You seem to forget, brother, that the edict applies to Fontainebleau as well as the Louvre."
"Not in the least; but one is allowed to kill vermin in the forest."
He glanced at me in speechless, blue-lipped rage. Twice his hand sought the hilt of his sword, and twice he drew it back. But that I knew him utterly fearless I might have thought his heart had failed him as he stood before me, the veins swollen on his forehead, and his fingers twitching convulsively. At last he found voice, and, laughing harshly, said:
"Not now; give me twenty-four hours, brother, and then as you wish, or, rather, whether you wish or not."
"So be it," I answered, and he laughed again, bitter, mirthless laughter, and reached out for the reins of his horse; but ere he mounted he turned once more on me, another gust of anger shaking his frame.
"Look you! You think you have beaten me because you have beaten that black-eyed strumpet who bewitches the King. I tell you I hold her in the hollow of my hand, and she cannot buy from me what she has bought from you. As for you, you have stood in my way long enough; never again shall it be. Fool! think you I cannot read your soul? Think you I will let you win the prize I should have won? I promise you that, in these twenty-four hours, which will make you long for death--I, Simon of Orrain, swear it!"
With this he swung round, and, springing into the saddle, went off at a gallop, leaving me staring after him, wondering what devilry lay behind his words. I watched him till he rounded the elbow of the wood that lay without the gates, and then, sheathing my sword, went slowly towards the Horseshoe Stair.
Under other circ.u.mstances I should have looked with wonder and admiration on the magnificent pile that the splendour of the late King had erected on the old-time fortress of Louis VII, but, as it was, I paced up and down the Cour du Cheval Blanc, gazing at the wide stairway and the silent walls, every minute that pa.s.sed seeming an hour to me in my impatience. At last I saw a figure at the head of the Horseshoe.
It was De Lorgnac, and he beckoned to me. In a moment I was by his side.
"Have you heard anything?" I asked.
"Nothing."
"She has had three hours." And I pointed to the sun.
"You must give her time. It will be sufficient if we hear by noon."
Then I told him of Simon and his strange departure, and whilst we spoke together Carnavalet, one of the chamberlains, appeared, and walked leisurely up to us.
"Messieurs," he said, "you are wanted. Have the goodness to follow me."
The Galerie de Cerfs, into which Carnavalet took us, was all that remained in the modern Chateau of the old hunting-lodge and fortress of the Kings of France, and, despite the trophies of the chase and tapestries that hung to its walls, it still retained the grim and forbidding aspect of the past.
It was used as an ante-room, not only to the King"s apartments but to the council chamber, and was crowded when we entered. Placing us near a pillar Carnavalet bade us wait until he returned, and threading his way through the press pa.s.sed through a door at the extreme end of the gallery that led to the private apartments of the King.