"Yes; but seeing you alone, I lost all hope."
"I wished to see you first, thinking that you might have many things to say which you would not wish her to hear; for I know all."
"You know all! What do you mean?"
"I know that you were taken to the a.r.s.enal yesterday!"
"Monseigneur!"
"I know that you found D"Argenson there, and that he read your sentence."
"Mon Dieu!"
"I know that you are condemned to death, and that you were bound not to speak of it to any one."
"Oh, monseigneur, silence! One word of this would kill Helene."
"Be easy, monsieur; but let us see; is there no way of avoiding this execution?"
"Days would be necessary to prepare and execute a plan of escape, and I scarcely have hours."
"I do not speak of escape; I ask if you have no excuse to give for your crime?"
"My crime!" cried Gaston, astonished to hear his accomplice use such a word.
"Yes," replied the duke: "you know that men stigmatize murder with this name under all circ.u.mstances; but posterity often judges differently, and sometimes calls it a grand deed."
"I have no excuse to give, monseigneur, except that I believe the death of the regent to be necessary to the salvation of France."
"Yes," replied the duke, smiling; "but you will see that that is scarcely the excuse to offer to Philippe d"Orleans. I wanted something personal. Political enemy of the regent"s as I am, I know that he is not considered a bad man. Men say that he is merciful, and that there have been no executions during his reign."
"You forget Count Horn."
"He was an a.s.sa.s.sin."
"And what am I?"
"There is this difference: Count Horn murdered in order to rob."
"I neither can nor will ask anything of the regent," said Gaston.
"Not you, personally, I know; but your friends. If they had a plausible pretense to offer, perhaps the prince himself might pardon you."
"I have none, monseigneur."
"It is impossible, monsieur--permit me to say so. A resolution such as you have taken must proceed from a sentiment of some kind--either of hatred or vengeance. And stay; I remember you told La Jonquiere, who repeated it to me, that there was a family feud: tell me the cause."
"It is useless, monseigneur, to tire you with that; it would not interest you."
"Never mind, tell it me."
"Well, the regent killed my brother."
"The regent killed your brother! how so? it is--impossible, Monsieur de Gaston," said the Duc d"Olivares.
"Yes, killed; if from the effect we go to the cause."
"Explain yourself; how could the regent do this?"
"My brother, who, being fifteen years of age when my father died, three months before my birth, stood to me in the place of that father, and of mother, who died when I was still in the cradle--my brother loved a young girl who was brought up in a convent by the orders of the prince."
"Do you know in what convent?"
"No: I only know that it was at Paris."
The duke murmured some words which Gaston could not hear.
"My brother, a relation of the abbess, had seen this young girl and asked her hand in marriage. The prince"s consent to this union had been asked, and he made a pretense of granting it, when this young girl, seduced by her so-called protector, suddenly disappeared. For three months my brother hoped to find her, but all his searches were vain; he found no trace of her, and in despair he sought death in the battle of Ramillies."
"And what was the name of this girl!"
"No one ever knew, monseigneur; to speak her name was to dishonor it."
"It was doubtless she," murmured the duke, "it was Helene"s mother; and your brother was called--?" added he aloud.
"Olivier de Chanlay, monseigneur."
"Olivier de Chanlay!" repeated the duke, in a low voice. "I knew the name of De Chanlay was not strange to me." Then, aloud, "Continue, monsieur; I listen to you."
"You do not know what a family hatred is in a province like ours. I had lavished upon my brother all the love which would have fallen to the share of my father and mother, and now I suddenly found myself alone in the world. I grew up in isolation of heart, and in the hope of revenge; I grew up among people who were constantly repeating, "It was the Duc d"Orleans who killed your brother." Then the duke became regent, the Breton league was therefore organized. I was one of the first to join it. You know the rest. You see that there is nothing in all this which has any interest for your excellency."
"You mistake, monsieur; unfortunately, the regent has to reproach himself with many such faults."
"You see, therefore," said Gaston, "that my destiny must be accomplished, and that I can ask nothing of this man."
"You are right, monsieur; whatever is done must be done without you."
At this moment the door opened and Maison-Rouge appeared.
"Well, monsieur?" asked the duke.
"The governor has an order from the lieutenant of police to admit Mademoiselle Helene de Chaverny; shall I bring her here?"
"Monseigneur," said Gaston, looking at the duke with an air of entreaty.
"Yes, monsieur," said he, "I understand--grief and love do not need witnesses--I will come back to fetch Mademoiselle Helene."
"The permission is for half an hour," said Maison-Rouge.