La Dame de Monsoreau (88 page)

" Alas ! yes. Poor dear man ! "

" What has happened to him ? "

"I -believe he's dead."

" Dead ! " cried Jeanne, with very natural agitation, " dead ! "

" That 's the state of the case."

" He who was here awhile ago, talking and looking round him"

" Ah, that was just the cause of his death ; he looked round him too much, but, above all, he talked too much."

" Saint-Luc, my love," said the young woman, seizing both his hands.

" What 's the matter ? "

" You are hiding something from me."

" I ? Nothing, I swear to you, not even the place where he lies."

" And where does he lie ? "

" Yonder, behind the wall, near the spot where our friend Bussy is in the habit of tying his horse."

"• Was it you that killed him, Saint-Luc ? "

" Egad, I don't see who else it could be. There were only two of us ; I am here' safe and sound, and telling you that he is dead. I don't see that ft is very hard to guess which of us two killed the other."

" Unhappy man, what have you done ! "

" But, my darling," said Saint-Luc, " he challenged me ; he was the first to draw the sword."

" It is frightful! frightful ! the poor man.! "

" Good," said Saint-Luc. " I was sure of it; before another week he will be called Saint Monsoreau."

" But you cannot stay here ! " cried Jeanne. " You cannot dwell longer under the roof of the man you have slain."

"The very thing I said to myself, my dear, and so I ran here to ask you to get ready to leave."

" He has not wounded you, I hope ? "

" Many thanks ! Your question comes a little late; the

interest in me manifested by it, however, restores harmony between us ; no, I am uninjured."

" So we are to start, then ? "

" As soon as possible, for you understand the accident may be discovered at any moment.'*

" And what an accident! " cried Madame de Saint-Luc, who could not get the thought of this catastrophe out of her mind.

" Alas ! " murmured Saint-Luc.

." But, now I think of it," said Jeanne, " Madame de Mon-soreau is a widow."

" Just the very thing I was saying to myself awhile ago."

« After you killed him ? "

" No, before."

" Well, well, while I am breaking the news to her "

" Break it very gently, my darling; spare her conjugal susceptibilities."

" You wicked man ! Well, while I am telling her, do you saddle the horses yourself as if for an ordinary ride."

" An excellent idea. You must manage to get hold of many others, for I confess this head of mine is growing just a bit muddled."

" But where are we to go ? "

" To Paris."

« Paris ! What about the King ? "

" The King has forgotten everything by this time ; too many important events have happened since then for him to remember our little escapade 5 besides, if there is war, as is probable, my place is at his side."

" Very well; let us set out for Paris, then."

" Of course ; but I want a pen and ink."

" Whom are you writing to ? "

"Bussy; you understand I can't very well quit Anjou in this fashion without telling him the reason."

" You are right; you ? 11 find what you need in my chamber."

Saint-Luc went upstairs, and, with a hand which all his efforts could not keep from trembling, he wrote hastily the following lines :

" Dear Friend: You will learn ere long by the voice of rumor of the accident that has befallen M. de Monsoreau; we had a discussion together, close by the old thicket, on the causes and effects of dilapidated walls, and on the inconvenience produced by horses that travel home without a rider.

" In the heat of the argument, M. de Monsoreau fell upon a bed of poppies and dandelions, and had such a hard fall that he is now as dead as a door nail.

" Your friend for life,

" SAINT-LUC.

" P.S. — As this accident might seem to you, at first sight, somewhat improbable, I had better add that, when the accident occurred, each of us held a sword in his hand.

" I am starting for Paris immediately to make my peace with the King, as these quarters do not seem to me very safe after what has taken place."

Ten minutes later, one of the baron's servants set off for Angers with this letter, while M. and Madame de Saint-Luc left the park by a small gate opening on a cross-road. Diane was in tears at their departure, and very much at a loss, besides, how to relate to her father the sad catastrophe that had just happened.

She had turned away her eyes from Saint-Luc when he approached her.

" The way your friends always treat you if you do them a service," said Saint-Luc afterward to his wife. " Decidedly, there is no gratitude in the world. I happen to be the only person in it who is grateful."

CHAPTER LXVII.

IN WHICH THE QUEEN MOTHER ENTERS ANGERS, BUT NOT IN A VERY TRIUMPHANT FASHION.

ALMOST at the very moment when M. de Monsoreau fell beneath the sword of Saint-Luc, a loud flourish of trumpets sounded before the gates of Angers, which, as we know, were always kept carefully closed.

The guards, who had received previous notice, hoisted the standard and responded with an equally harmonious blast.

Catharine de Medicis was about to enter the city, followed by an imposing train of attendants.

Bussy was at once informed of her arrival; he rose from bed and went to notify the prince, who straightway got into his.

Certainly, the music played by the Angevine trumpets was very fine music, but it had none of that power which levelled the walls of Jericho; the gates of Angers did not open.

Catharine leaned out of the litter so that the guards could see her, expecting that the majesty of a royal countenance would be more effective than the sound of trumpets.

They looked at the queen, even saluted her courteously, but the gates remained closed.

Catharine sent one of her gentlemen to the barriers. He was treated with the utmost politeness.

But when he demanded that the gates should be thrown open for the queen mother, and that her majesty should be received with all due honor, he was told that Angers was a military fortress and its gates could not be opened until certain indispensable formalities were complied with.

The gentleman returned, very crestfallen, to his mistress, and then there dropped from the lips of Catharine, in all the bitterness of their significance, in all the fulness of their meaning, the words which Louis XIV. was to use later on, slightly modified to suit the altered condition of the royal authority :

" I am kept waiting! " she murmured.

And the gentlemen who were beside her trembled.

At length, Bussy, who had been lecturing the duke for half an hour and laying before him a multitude of state reasons, all in favor of the policy he wished him to adopt, — Bussy, we say, came to a decision on his own account.

He had his horse saddled and magnificently caparisoned, selected five gentlemen he knew to be particularly odious to the queen mother, and advanced slowly at their head to meet her majesty.

Catharine was beginning to grow tired, not of waiting, but of devising schemes to avenge the slight of which she was the victim.

She recalled the Arabian story of the rebellious genius, imprisoned in a copper vase, who promised to enrich any one restoring him to freedom, but who, in his rage at having to wait ten centuries for his release, swore then to kill any one rash enough to break the cover.

Catharine's frame of mind was now somewhat similar.

She had intended to be very gracious to the gentlemen who, she believed, would eagerly come to greet her.

Then she made a vow to crush with her wrath the first of them who approached her.

Bussy, in all the trappings of war, appeared at the barrier, and looked vaguely before him, like some nocturnal sentry who listens rather than sees.

" Who goes there ? " he cried.

Catharine had expected some show of respect, at the very least; her gentlernan-in-waiting looked at her to learn her wishes.

" Go," said she, " go again to the barrier; I hear some one crying : ' Who goes there ? ' Answer him, monsieur, — it is a mere formality."

The gentleman proceeded to the portcullis.

" It is the queen mother/' said he, " who has come to visit the good city of Angers."

" Very well, monsieur," answered Bussy; " be so kind as to turn to the left; about eighty yards from here you will find the postern!"

" The postern !" cried the gentleman, " the postern ! A postern for her majesty ! "

Bussy was no longer there to hear.

With his friends, who were laughing in their sleeves, he advanced to the spot where he had said the queen mother could enter.

" Did your majesty hear him ? " asked the gentleman. " The postern "

" Oh, yes, I heard ; let us enter by the postern, since it is the path pointed out to us."

And she flashed a glance at her attendant that made him turn pale; he knew his ill-timed remark had added to the humiliation imposed on his sovereign.

The queen mother and her retinue turned to the left, and the postern was opened.

Bussy advanced on foot, with sword in hand, beyond the gate, and bowed respectfully to Catharine ; the plumes of his companions swept the ground.

" Your majesty," said he, " is welcome to Angers."

But neither did the drummers who were with him beat their drums, nor did his halberdiers present arms.

The queen descended from her litter and leaning on the arm of a gentleman of her suite, walked to the little gate, merely saying:

" Thanks, M. de Bussy."

This was all that came, at present, of the meditations she had been given such a length of time to make.

She inarched along with head erect.

Bussy uttered a word of warning and even took hold of her arm.

" Ah! take care, madame," said he, " the door is very low ; your majesty might get hurt."

" I must stoop, then ? " answered the queen. " I hardly know how to do so; it is the first time I entered a city in this fashion."

These words, though spoken perfectly naturally, had a significance and far-reaching import in the eyes of many present — Angevines as well as sagacious courtiers -— that aroused some little alarm; even Bussy twitched his mustache and turned away his eyes.

" You have gone too far," whispered Livarot in his ear.

" Pshaw ! " answered Bussy, " she '11 have to put up with a good many more experiences of the same sort."

The litter was* hoisted over the wall by ropes and pulleys, and Catharine was enabled to proceed in it to the palace. Biissy and his friends got on horseback and rode on each side of the litter.

" My son! " suddenly exclaimed the queen mother ; "I do not see my son, M. d'Anjou ? "

These words, which she would have wished to leave unspoken, were wrung from her by tjie rage she could not control. The absence of Francois at such a moment put the finishing touch on the insults she had received.

" Monseigneur is ill and in bed, madame," said Bussy ; " if it were not so, your majesty is well aware his highness would have been the first to meet you and do the honors of his city."

And now the hypocrisy of Catharine was sublime.

" 111! my poor child ill! " she cried. " Ah ! gentlemen, let us get on quickly. I hope he is, at least, well cared for."

"We do our best," answered Bussy, staring at her in surprise, as if he would know whether this woman had really a mother's heart.

" Is he aware that I am here ? " resumed Catharine, after a silence she had usefully employed in scanning the faces of all the gentlemen present.

" Yes, madame, yes, certainly."

Catharine pinched her lips.

" He must be very sick, then," she added, pityingly.

" Awfully sick, indeed," answered Bussy. " His highness is subject to these sudden indispositions."

" It was a sudden attack, was it, M. de Bussy ? "

" Undoubtedly, madame."

In this way they reached the palace, between two long lines of spectators, massed on each side of the litter.

Bussy made his way to the duke with such speed that when he entered the bedroom he was out of breath.

" She is here," said he. " Look out " —

" She is furious, then ? "

" Yes, she is rather in a temper."

" Does she complain ? "

"No, much worse; she smiles."

" How did the people receive her ? "

" The people were as still as a post; they stared at this woman in dumb terror ; they may not know her, but their instinct tells them what she is."

" And she ? "

" Sent them kisses, all the time biting the tips of her fingers."

« The devil! "

" The devil ; yes, you 're right, monseigneur. You know now with whom the game is to be played; play it cunningly."

" It will be war between us, will it not ? "

"Yes, with the odds against you. Ask a hundred to get ten, and, with her, you may thank your stars if you get five."

" Pshaw ! you think me so weak, then, do you ? Are you all there ? Why has not Monsoreau returned ? " asked the duke.

" I suppose he is at Meridor — Oh, we can do very well without him."

"Her majesty the queen mother!" cried the usher, at the threshold of the apartment.

And Catharine appeared at the same moment, looking pale, and dressed in black, according to her custom.

The duke made a movement to rise. But Catharine, with an agility hardly to be expected from a woman of her age, flung herself into her son's arms and covered his face with kisses.

" She will stifle him," thought Bussy, " and, mordieu ! they are real kisses ! "

She did more, she wept.

" We had better be on our guard," said Antraguet to Bussy ; " every tear will be paid for by a hogshead of blood/'