La Dame de Monsoreau (38 page)

The evening breeze lifted his long, snow-white hair.

He crossed the drawbridge, followed by two huge dogs of German breed, who walked behind him with slow and measured tread and lowered heads, never outstepping each other by an inch. When the old man reached the parapet:

" Who is there ?" he asked, in a feeble voice, " and who does an old man the honor of visiting him ? "

" It is I, Seigneur Augustin," cried the laughing voice of the young woman.

For this was the title Jeanne de Cosse used to give the

baron to distinguish him from his younger brother, who was called Guillaume, and had died only three years before.

But the baron, instead of answering with the joyous exclamation Jeanne had expected to hear, slowly shook his head, and fixing his undiscerning eyes on the travellers:

" You ? " said he ; "I do not see — who — you ? "

" Good heavens ! " cried Jeanne, " is it possible you do not recognize me ? Ah, I forgot, — my disguise."

" Excuse me," said the old man, " but I hardly see at present. The eyes of the old are not made for weeping, and when they weep the tears burn them."

"My dear baron," said the young woman, "I can easily perceive that your sight is growing weak, else you would have recognized me even in my male uniform. Then, shall I have to tell you my name ? "

" Yes, if you please," he answered. " I have told you I scarcely see you."

" Then you are going to find yourself nicely caught, Seigneur Augustin : I am Madame de Saint-Luc."

" Saint-Luc ! " said the old man, " I do not know you."

" But my name before I was married," said the smiling young woman, " was Jeanne de Cosse-Brissac."

" Ah !" cried the old man, trying to open the gate with his trembling hands. " Ah ! good God !"

Jeanne, who was puzzled by this strange reception, so different from what she expected, attributed it, however, to the decline of the old man's faculties. She jumped from her horse, and threw herself into his arms, as had been her custom ; but when she touched the baron's cheeks she felt they were wet. He was weeping.

" With joy," she thought. " Ah! the heart is always young."

" Come," said the old man, after embracing Jeanne.

And, as though he had not perceived her two companions, he proceeded toward the castle, followed by his two dogs, who had only time to scent and eye the visitors.

The castle had a singularly dismal aspect ; all the shutters were closed, and it looked like an immense tomb. Such of the servants as made their appearance were dressed in black. Saint-Luc directed a glance of inquiry at his wife. Was this the condition in which she had expected to find the castle ?

Jeanne understood, and as she was in a hurry herself to

solve this perplexing riddle, she approached the baron and took his hand.

" And Diane ? " she inquired. " Am I so unlucky as to find her absent ? »

The old man halted as if thunder stricken, and gazed on the young woman with an expression that almost resembled terror.

" Diane ! " said he.

And suddenly, at that name, the two dogs on each side of their master raised their heads and uttered a doleful howl.

Bussy could not help shuddering. Jeanne looked at Saint-Luc, ' and Saint-Luc stood still, not knowing whether to advance or retreat.

" Diane!" repeated the old man, as if he had needed time to understand the question put to him, " then you do not know ? "

And his weak, quivering voice died away in a sob wrung from the very depths of his heart.

" But what is the matter ? What has happened ? " cried Jeanne, greatly moved.

" Diane is dead ! " cried the old man, raising his hands in a despairing gesture to heaven, and bursting into a flood of tears.

When he reached the door he sank down on the first steps, buried his face in his hands, rocking himself backward and forward, as if he could thereby chase away the dismal memories that were incessantly torturing him.

" Dead ! " cried Jeanne, in dismay, turning as pale as a ghost.

" Dead ! " said Saint-Luc, in tender compassion for the old man.

" Dead !" stammered Bussy. " Then he has let him believe she was dead. Ah, poor old man ! how you will love me some day !»

" Dead ! dead ! " repeated the baron ; " they killed her ! "

" Ah ! my dear baron," said Jeanne, who, after the terrible blow that had fallen upon her, had found the only relief that keeps the feeble hearts of women from breaking — tears.

And she broke into a tempest of sobs, bathing the old man's face with her tears as she hung about his neck.

The old baron stumbled to his feet.

" No matter," said he, " though the house be empty and desolate, it is not the less hospitable on that account; enter."

Jeanne took his arm, crossed the peristyle and the ancient guardroom, now a dining-room, and entered the drawing-room.

A servant, whose agitated countenance and reddened eyes gave evidence of his tender devotion to his master, walked in front, opening the doors ; Saint-Luc and Bussy followed.

On reaching the drawing-room, the old man sat down, or, rather, sank on his great carved armchair.

The servant opened a window to let in fresh air, and, instead of leaving the apartment, retired to a corner.

Jeanne did not dare to break the silence. She dreaded reopening the old man's wounds if she were to question him ; and yet, like all who are young and happy, she could not bring herself to credit the reality of the misfortune that was announced to her. At a certain age it is impossible to sound the abysses of death, because death is scarcely believed in.

It was the baron who gave her an opportunity of renewing the conversation.

" You told me, my dear Jeanne, you were married ; is this gentleman your husband ? "

And he pointed to Bussy.

" No, Seigneur Augustin," answered Jeanne. " This is M. de Saint-Luc."

Saint-Luc bowed lower before the unhappy father than he ever would have done before the old man. The latter returned the salute in a fatherly manner, and even attempted to smile. Then, turning his glassy eyes on Bussy, he said to her :

" I suppose this gentleman is your brother, or brother-in-law, or one of your relations ? "

" No, my dear baron, this gentleman is not related to either of us, but he is our friend: M. Louis de Clermont, Comte de Bussy d'Amboise, gentleman of M. de Due d'Anjou."

At these words the old man, springing to his feet, darted a terrible look at Bussy, and then, as if exhausted by this mute defiance, fell back exhausted on his chair with a groan.

" What is the meaning of this ? " asked Jeanne.

" Does the baron know you, M. de Bussy ? " inquired Saint-Luc.

" This is the first time I have had the honor of meeting M. de Meridor," was the composed reply of Bussy, who alone understood the effect produced on the old man by the mention of the Due d'An j oil's name.

" Ah ! you are the Due d'Anjou's gentleman," said the baron,

" you are the gentleman of that monster, that demon, and you dare to confess it, and you have the audacity to come into my presence ! "

" Is he mad ? " Saint-Luc asked his wife in a whisper, staring at the baron.

" His grief must have unsettled him," answered Jeanne, alarmed.

M. de Meridor had accompanied the words he had just uttered with a glance even more threatening than the one before, but Bussy, as calm as ever, met it with the same attitude -of profound respect, and did not reply.

" Yes, that monster," continued M. de Meridor, becoming more and more excited, " that assassin who has murdered my daughter."

" Poor old man ! " murmured Bussy.

" But what does he mean ? " asked Jeanne, looking round.

" You stare at me with terrified eyes, but ah ! you do not know," cried M. de Meridor, taking the hands of Jeanne and Saint-Luc and clasping them within his own. " The Due d'Anjou has killed my Diane ! the Due d'Anjou. 0 my child ! my daughter ! he has killed her ! "

And there was such pathos in the old man's voice as he uttered these words that the tears came to the eyes of Bussy himself.

" My dear baron," said the young woman, " though this were so, and I do not understand how it can be, it is impossible to charge M. de Bussy with this frightful misfortune, for he is the most loyal and noble-hearted gentleman living. Surely it is clear that M. de Bussy does not comprehend the meaning of what you say; look, he is weeping as we are, and for the same reason. Would he be here if he expected such a reception as you are giving him ? Oh ! dear Seigneur Augus-tin, in the name of your beloved Diane, tell us how this catastrophe has occurred."

" Then you did not know ! " said the baron, addressing Bussy.

Bussy inclined without answering.

" Oh ! surely no," exclaimed Jeanne, " every one was ignorant of this event."

" My Diane dead and her best friend ignorant of her death ! But it is true I have not written of it to any one. It seemed to me as if the world ceased to exist when my daughter

no longer lived; it seemed to me as if the entire universe must have gone into mourning for my Diane."

" Speak, speak, it will relieve you," said Jeanne.

" Well," said the old man, sobbing, " that infamous prince, that dishonor to the nobility of France, saw my Diane, and, finding her beautiful, had her abducted and brought to the castle of Beauge, intending to treat her as he would have treated the daughter of a serf. My Diane, my pure and noble Diane, preferred death. She flung herself from a window into the lake, and all that was found of her was her veil floating on the surface of the water."

And the tears and sobs of the old man while uttering the last sentence made the scene one of the most painful ever witnessed by Bussy, though he was a warrior and accustomed to shed blood and to see it shed.

Jeanne, who was almost fainting, looked at the count with a kind of dread.

" Oh, count, this is horrible, is it not ? '' cried Saint-Luc. " You must abandon that infamous prince. You have too noble a heart to remain the friend of a ravisher and an assassin."

The baron, somewhat soothed by these words, awaited the reply of Bussy, in order to form an opinion of that gentleman ; the sympathetic words of Saint-Luc consoled him somewhat. A great moral crisis is often accompanied by great physical weakness, and a child bitten by a favorite dog will find some relief for its pain in seeing the dog that bit it beaten.

But Bussy, instead of answering Saint-Luc's appeal, advanced to M. de Meridor.

" M. le Baron," said he, " would you do me the honor of granting me a private interview ? "

" Listen to M. de Bussy, my dear baron," said Jeanne, " you will see that he is good and will help you."

" Speak, monsieur," said the baron, trembling, for he perceived a strange significance in the expression of the young man's eyes.

Bussy turned to Saint-Luc and his wife, and addressing them in a tone of mingled dignity and kindness.

" Will you allow me ? " said he.

The husband and wife left the room arm in arm, and feeling doubly thankful for their happiness in presence of so great a calamity.

When the door closed behind them, Bussy approached the baron and, with a profound inclination, said :

" M. le Baron, you have just accused a prince whom I serve of a crime, and your accusation has been made in such violent terms that I am forced to ask you for an explanation."

The old man started.

"Oh, do not misunderstand the entirely respectful meaning of my words ; I speak them with the deepest sympathy, and it is with the most earnest desire to mitigate your sorrow that I say, to you now: M. le Baron, tell me all the details of the lamentable catastrophe you have just related to Monsieur and Madame de Saint-Luc. Are you quite sure that everything has occurred in the manner you suppose and that all hope is lost ? "

" Monsieur," returned the baron, " I had once a moment's hope. A noble and loyal gentleman, M. de Monsoreau, loved my daughter and did his best to save her."

" M. de Monsoreau, indeed! Would you mind telling me what has been his conduct in this matter ? "

" Ah! his conduct has been chivalrous and noble, for Diane had refused his hand. Yet he was the first to warn me of the duke's infamous projects. It was he who showed me how to foil them. He asked only one reward for rescuing my daughter, and in this he proved the generosity and uprightness of his soul : he asked, should he succeed in delivering her from the Due d'Anjou, that I should give her to him in marriage, for only with a young, active, enterprising husband could she be saved from the prince, as her poor father was unable to protect her.

" I gave my consent joyfully ; but, alas ! it was in vain ; he came too late, and only found my poor Diane saved from dishonor by death."

" And has M. de Monsoreau sent you any intelligence since that fatal moment ? " asked Bussy.

" It is but a month since this happened," said the old man, " and the poor gentleman has evidently not dared to appear before me after failing in his generous purpose."

Bussy bent his head; all was now plain to him.

He saw how it was that M. de Monsoreau had succeeded in carrying off from the prince the woman he loved, and how his fear of the prince discovering this young girl to be his own wife led him to spread the report of her death.

fi And now, monsieur ? " queried the baron, perceiving that the young man was absorbed in his thoughts and that his eyes, which had flashed more than once during the narrative, were riveted on the floor.

" And now, M. le Baron," answered Bussy, " I am commissioned by Monseigneur le Due d'Anjou to conduct you to Paris, where his Highness would speak with you."

" What! speak to me ! " cried the baron. " What! look on that man's face after the death of my daughter! And what might this murderer want to say to me ? "