"It would appear, Count, that in Mademoiselle"s opinion you are the heir; indeed, Maurice being dead, there can be no two opinions on this point; but the fact remains that you are not a _persona grata_ with the people, and Herrick"s damaging statement in the great hall that night has seriously affected your position."
"Is a man"s character to be ruined by a lie?" said Felix.
"It often is," Father Bertrand answered quietly; "and Mademoiselle does not seem able to decide whether it was all a lie. How far this doubt influences her in her determination, I am unable to say, but her first thought, her only thought indeed, is her country. Do you follow me?"
"You use over-many words, it seems to me," said the Count irritably.
"The position is simple. Those who deny my right to the throne are traitors. An ocean of words cannot alter that fact."
"Nor the fact that without help you are at this moment as powerless as any man in Vayenne," said de Bornais.
There was a pause, during which the Countess laid her hand gently on Felix"s arm to keep him silent.
"We now come to Mademoiselle"s last argument," said the priest. "That the people have shown themselves ready to admit a claim through the female line, a claim which has never been put forward until now in the whole history of Montvilliers, seems to her a proof that the claim of a woman herself will be recognized, and under certain conditions, seeing that the country is in jeopardy, she is determined to make that claim."
"Become d.u.c.h.ess!" Felix exclaimed. "I----"
"Would it not be well to hear the conditions, Count?" said Father Bertrand.
"Pardon. I appear to be in the hands of my friends," Felix answered sneeringly.
"Believing that your coming to the throne would be the cause of further difficulties and dissensions," the priest went on, "believing also that she is beloved by the people, Mademoiselle agrees to marry you, and reign with you, equal to you in authority in all things. The state shall have, in fact, two heads instead of one, and no order or paper shall be valid without the signature of the d.u.c.h.ess as well as that of the Duke."
"The d.u.c.h.ess being the more powerful," said Countess Elisabeth quietly.
"Your decision must not be delayed, Count," said de Bornais. "I would as soon Mademoiselle had taken the throne without any reference to you, but on a point of law she has her scruples."
"In these days you have become a maker of dukes, de Bornais, and appear little satisfied with your own work," said Felix.
"For what I conceive to be right I place myself a second time in jeopardy," was the answer. "In Duke Roger we have a strong man to contend with."
"I do not understand how it is you have so quickly learned to hate him," said the Countess. "Such easy friendship as you seem able to give is a dangerous thing for any man to accept. I should refuse to be bound by such conditions as these, Felix."
"Madame, the Count is powerless without his friends," said the priest.
"And with them he becomes a tool, liable to be thrown away at any moment and crushed underfoot. I have little faith in Mademoiselle or her advisers. There is something under this conspiracy which you do not speak of."
"The Count has until to-morrow to decide," said de Bornais. "If he will not fulfil the conditions, he sinks into insignificance in Montvilliers. By marrying Mademoiselle he will cement all parties in the state. If you are with us, Count, success is certain, but without you we have still a good hope of success. It is for you to choose."
"Wait. You have until to-morrow," whispered the Countess.
"The new Duke is strong in Vayenne," said Felix. "How do you propose to outwit him?"
"When we have had your answer you shall know more of our schemes," de Bornais answered.
"Success comes easiest through the sudden death of enemies," said the Count. "Is there no rascal about the castle who for a reward can shoot straight when he finds himself alone with the Duke?"
"We are not murderers, Count."
"Nor statesmen either, de Bornais, if you call such a thing murder. Is it to you I send my answer to-morrow, Father Bertrand?"
"Yes, Count."
Felix helped the Countess with her cloak, and then wrapped his own round him.
"I am inclined to doubt whether Montvilliers is worth all this trouble," he said.
"It is for you to judge," said de Bornais as the Count and Countess pa.s.sed out.
De Bornais and Father Bertrand looked at each other as the door closed.
"We plot against a man to serve a cur," said de Bornais.
"It is Mademoiselle we serve," said the priest.
"Truly we serve her badly to help the Count to marry her," was the answer.
"But afterward." And the priest laid his hand on his shoulder. "The fight has been a long one, de Bornais, but the end is in sight. The labor of years is soon to be paid for. It will be a glorious triumph."
"Father Bertrand, all is yet to win, remember," was the answer.
"Whatever his faults, whatever his ambition, this Roger Herrick is a man. You thought to make him a tool, and you find you cannot use him; now you hope to put him aside, it is possible we shall not be able to do so. He is an honest man, and if we overthrow him, in my heart I shall feel a traitor to the end of my days."
"True, quite true, but our cause acquits our conscience," said the priest.
"Do foul means justify even a good cause?" asked de Bornais.
"In this case, yes--a thousand times, yes. I speak not as a man, but as a priest. Evil must sometimes be done that good may come. It is a truth burnt into the record of all times and into the annals of every nation."
"I would there were another way than this," de Bornais returned as he fastened his cloak, "or that the work had fallen into other hands."
"But you are faithful?"
"To the death, father; and I almost hope that death may finish it."
The priest raised his hand in a silent blessing as de Bornais went out.
Father Bertrand reseated himself at the table, and Mercier put back the chairs into their places. Then he sat down on the opposite side of the table, and watched the priest, who, taking up paper after paper, seemed to do so half unconsciously, and merely to look at them, while his thoughts were elsewhere. It was Mercier who broke the silence.
"You drive a strange and unruly team, father. I do not understand it."
The priest looked at him as though he had forgotten his presence altogether until he spoke.
"True, Mercier. The goal I have struggled toward lies at the end of crooked ways, but the ways are justified. The judgment of men would condemn me, but for such judgment I care nothing." And he paused, almost as if he doubted the truth of his own statement. Then he went on hurriedly. "This you know, Mercier, that the end I strive for is the Church"s good, her triumph here, and throughout the world. Long ago my superiors decided that it was not for the Church"s good that Montvilliers should remain a separate state. Their reasons were many and complex, looking toward the future, and when I was chosen for the work, I had only to obey. Duke Robert"s position was too strong to be a.s.sailed. I could no more than prepare the ground; but the future held great possibilities. His son was a weakling, yet strongly supported by Mademoiselle de Liancourt; Count Felix was feared, but he was strong since he was unlikely to let any obstacle stand in his way to power.
Here lay all the elements of a civil war, and with such a war would come the opportunity of the neighboring nations. They were ready to strike when the word was given, are awaiting at this moment as you know, Mercier."
Mercier nodded.
"I espoused the cause of the scholar of Pa.s.sey--Mademoiselle"s cause.
A weak man in power would inevitably have brought rebellion. In the midst of my plotting, on the night of the Duke"s death, I saw Roger Herrick at the Croix Verte, and recognized that his face was strangely like the face of the picture yonder. It was not so wonderful that I should do so, for in seeking for means to bring about the desired end, I had often wondered whether a further element of discord might not be introduced through this branch of the family. You know our attempt to secure him."