Chapter x.x.xV. On the Ca.n.a.l.
Upon the green waters of the ca.n.a.l bordered with marble, upon which time had already scattered black spots and tufts of mossy gra.s.s, there glided majestically a long, flat bark adorned with the arms of England, surmounted by a dais, and carpeted with long damasked stuffs, which trailed their fringes in the water. Eight rowers, leaning lazily to their oars, made it move upon the ca.n.a.l with the graceful slowness of the swans, which, disturbed in their ancient possessions by the approach of the bark, looked from a distance at this splendid and noisy pageant.
We say noisy--for the bark contained four guitar and lute players, two singers, and several courtiers, all sparkling with gold and precious stones, and showing their white teeth in emulation of each other, to please the Lady Henrietta Stuart, grand-daughter of Henry IV., daughter of Charles I., and sister of Charles II., who occupied the seat of honor under the dais of the bark. We know this young princess, we have seen her at the Louvre with her mother, wanting wood, wanting bread, and fed by the coadjuteur and the parliament. She had, therefore, like her brothers, pa.s.sed through an uneasy youth; then, all at once, she had just awakened from a long and horrible dream, seated on the steps of a throne, surrounded by courtiers and flatterers. Like Mary Stuart on leaving prison, she aspired not only to life and liberty, but to power and wealth.
The Lady Henrietta, in growing, had attained remarkable beauty, which the recent restoration had rendered celebrated. Misfortune had taken from her the l.u.s.ter of pride, but prosperity had restored it to her. She was resplendent, then, in her joy and her happiness,--like those hot-house flowers which, forgotten during a frosty autumn night, have hung their heads, but which on the morrow, warmed once more by the atmosphere in which they were born, rise again with greater splendor than ever. Villiers, Duke of Buckingham, son of him who played so conspicuous a part in the early chapters of this history,--Villiers of Buckingham, a handsome cavalier, melancholy with women, a jester with men,--and Wilmot, Lord Rochester, a jester with both s.e.xes, were standing at this moment before the Lady Henrietta, disputing the privilege of making her smile. As to that young and beautiful princess, reclining upon a cushion of velvet bordered with gold, her hands hanging listlessly so as to dip in the water, she listened carelessly to the musicians without hearing them, and heard the two courtiers without appearing to listen to them.
This Lady Henrietta--this charming creature--this woman who joined the graces of France to the beauties of England, not having yet loved, was cruel in her coquetry. The smile, then,--that innocent favor of young girls,--did not even lighten her countenance; and if, at times, she did raise her eyes, it was to fasten them upon one or other of the cavaliers with such a fixity, that their gallantry, bold as it generally was, took the alarm, and became timid.
In the meanwhile the boat continued its course, the musicians made a great noise, and the courtiers began, like them, to be out of breath.
Besides, the excursion became doubtless monotonous to the princess, for all at once, shaking her head with an air of impatience,--"Come gentlemen,--enough of this;--let us land."
"Ah, madam," said Buckingham, "we are very unfortunate! We have not succeeded in making the excursion agreeable to your royal highness."
"My mother expects me," replied the princess; "and I must frankly admit, gentlemen, I am bored." And whilst uttering this cruel word, Henrietta endeavored to console by a look each of the two young men, who appeared terrified at such frankness. The look produced its effect--the two faces brightened; but immediately, as if the royal coquette thought she had done too much for simple mortals, she made a movement, turned her back on both her adorers, and appeared plunged in a reverie in which it was evident they had no part.
Buckingham bit his lips with anger, for he was truly in love with the Lady Henrietta, and, in that case, took everything in a serious light.
Rochester bit his lips likewise; but his wit always dominated over his heart, it was purely and simply to repress a malicious smile. The princess was then allowing the eyes she turned from the young n.o.bles to wander over the green and flowery turf of the park, when she perceived Parry and D"Artagnan at a distance.
"Who is coming yonder?" said she.
The two young men turned round with the rapidity of lightning.
"Parry," replied Buckingham; "n.o.body but Parry."
"I beg your pardon," said Rochester, "but I think he has a companion."
"Yes," said the princess, at first with languor, but then,--"What mean those words, "n.o.body but Parry;" say, my lord?"
"Because, madam," replied Buckingham, piqued, "because the faithful Parry, the wandering Parry, the eternal Parry, is not, I believe, of much consequence."
"You are mistaken, duke. Parry--the wandering Parry, as you call him--has always wandered in the service of my family, and the sight of that old man always gives me satisfaction."
The Lady Henrietta followed the usual progress of pretty women, particularly coquettish women; she pa.s.sed from caprice to contradiction;--the gallant had undergone the caprice, the courtier must bend beneath the contradictory humor. Buckingham bowed, but made no reply.
"It is true, madam," said Rochester, bowing in his turn, "that Parry is the model of servants; but, madam, he is no longer young, and we laugh only when we see cheerful objects. Is an old man a gay object?"
"Enough, my lord," said the princess, coolly; "the subject of conversation is unpleasant to me."
Then, as if speaking to herself, "It is really unaccountable," said she, "how little regard my brother"s friends have for his servants."
"Ah, madam," cried Buckingham, "your royal highness pierces my heart with a dagger forged by your own hands."
"What is the meaning of that speech, which is turned so like a French madrigal, duke? I do not understand it."
"It means, madam, that you yourself, so good, so charming, so sensible, you have laughed sometimes--smiled, I should say--at the idle prattle of that good Parry, for whom your royal highness to-day entertains such a marvelous susceptibility."
"Well, my lord, if I have forgotten myself so far," said Henrietta, "you do wrong to remind me of it." And she made a sign of impatience. "The good Parry wants to speak to me, I believe: please order them to row to the sh.o.r.e, my Lord Rochester."
Rochester hastened to repeat the princess"s command; and a moment later the boat touched the bank.
"Let us land, gentlemen," said Henrietta, taking the arm which Rochester offered her, although Buckingham was nearer to her, and had presented his. Then Rochester, with an ill-dissembled pride, which pierced the heart of the unhappy Buckingham through and through, led the princess across the little bridge which the rowers had cast from the royal boat to the sh.o.r.e.
"Which way will your highness go?" asked Rochester.
"You see, my lord, towards that good Parry, who is wandering, as my lord of Buckingham says, and seeking me with eyes weakened by the tears he has shed over our misfortunes."
"Good heavens!" said Rochester, "how sad your royal highness is to-day; in truth we seem ridiculous fools to you, madam."
"Speak for yourself, my lord," interrupted Buckingham with vexation; "for my part, I displease her royal highness to such a degree, that I appear absolutely nothing to her."
Neither Rochester nor the princess made any reply; Henrietta only urged her companion more quickly on. Buckingham remained behind, and took advantage of this isolation to give himself up to his anger; he bit his handkerchief so furiously that it was soon in shreds.
"Parry, my good Parry," said the princess, with her gentle voice, "come hither. I see you are seeking me, and I am waiting for you."
"Ah, madam," said Rochester, coming charitably to the help of his companion, who had remained, as we have said, behind, "if Parry cannot see your royal highness, the man who follows him is a sufficient guide, even for a blind man; for he has eyes of flame. That man is a double-lamped lantern."
"Lighting a very handsome martial countenance," said the princess, determined to be as ill-natured as possible. Rochester bowed. "One of those vigorous soldiers" heads seen nowhere but in France," added the princess, with the perseverance of a woman sure of impunity.
Rochester and Buckingham looked at each other, as much as to say,--"What can be the matter with her?"
"See, my lord of Buckingham, what Parry wants," said Henrietta. "Go!"
The young man, who considered this order as a favor, resumed his courage, and hastened to meet Parry, who, followed by D"Artagnan, advanced slowly on account of his age. D"Artagnan walked slowly but n.o.bly, as D"Artagnan, doubled by the third of a million, ought to walk, that is to say, without conceit or swagger, but without timidity. When Buckingham, very eager to comply with the desire of the princess, who had seated herself on a marble bench, as if fatigued with the few steps she had gone,--when Buckingham, we say, was at a distance of only a few paces from Parry, the latter recognized him.
"Ah! my lord!" cried he, quite out of breath, "will your grace obey the king?"
"In what, Mr. Parry?" said the young man, with a kind of coolness tempered by a desire to make himself agreeable to the princess.
"Well, his majesty begs your grace to present this gentleman to her royal highness the Princess Henrietta."
"In the first place, what is the gentleman"s name?" said the duke, haughtily.
D"Artagnan, as we know, was easily affronted, and the Duke of Buckingham"s tone displeased him. He surveyed the courtier from head to foot, and two flashes beamed from beneath his bent brows. But, after a struggle,--"Monsieur le Chevalier d"Artagnan, my lord," replied he, quietly.
"Pardon me, sir, that teaches me your name, but nothing more."
"You mean--"
"I mean I do not know you."
"I am more fortunate than you, sir," replied D"Artagnan, "for I have had the honor of knowing your family, and particularly my lord Duke of Buckingham, your ill.u.s.trious father."
"My father?" said Buckingham. "Well, I think I now remember. Monsieur le Chevalier d"Artagnan, do you say?"